had wounds worn open to let in the heavy air.
had everyone's eyes,
were thirsty for movement like any man, woman,
trace the lines woven across my belly,
mine it for the subtle words, beading like water on wax,
with his ring, I wave on the ghosts
push away the nights now spent clutching
old bone church, coddling your guitar like a rifle.
said we would meet in Prague, dance like
with this ring, I'll pretend I can't see you
silently calling from the streets of Prague.
2007, Kelley Reno Miller. ©
This work is protected
under the U.S. copyright laws.
Kelley Reno Miller, originally from the Austin area, now attends the University of North Texas in Denton where she is completing her M.A. in Poetry and teaching freshman composition. She has been involved with several mixed/performing arts troupes in Houston and Austin, and now spends much of her time enacting safaris and car races with her four-year-old son.