Iris (for Iris from a~) — a poem

What you probably don’t know about her

is this fragile magic, magick, furledblue tender arms that

wrap around little babies


did she ever fall?

maybe off a Harley, once

Irises like that get back up and dust everything off

“that was nothing,” you can hear her say

I knew I saw a sister

in the tender tiny twists & winks

the delicate rhyme


she was the kind of girl who got up and laughed anyway

she was the girl you hung with in high school

a beachblue bikini wave

who dared everything twice before you did

there is this place we mirror fierce

raise the eyebrow, slam down the throttle

riproar as the engines peal

there is this desert we know how to run from

that’s what I know about her

she was the one everybody loved at work, bringing the cakes

had the cards

had the hands to handle

whatever got thrown

her way



in leather chaps when necessary

once she drove for miles

and all I could do was smile

and I wanted to be her

that kind of soul’s brave bravado

and I know who to look to now

if I ever have to look for happiness

that contented curl

It’s so long ago now that I saw how much she was in love

But when I see little clues she leaves

I smile, across all these miles

remembering us somewhere around fourteen

still strutting




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