Unsnapped Too

1. YOU
with tissue in hand wiping tears from your eyes
on the steps of St. Louis Cathedral. You had lit
a candle in the vestibule and asked forgiveness
for what we were going to do.

2. YOU
with your arms gently surrounding me, dancing slowly
to Unchained Melody, at Callahan�s Bar in Houma.
We never did learn who played that song, but it
remains my favorite to this very day.

3. YOU
with your good ear pressed to my bare chest.
Listening to my heartbeat and saying that you
wanted to memorize the beat and synchronize its
rhythm to your very own (creating one heart).

4. YOU
lighting a candle at St. Francis De Sales after
our walk through the cemetery visiting my old
friends and relatives. You gave �thanks� for all
we had done (and a prayer for more).

5. YOU
Boarding Delta for your return home. The final
kisses at the airport and the tears in both our
eyes. In all reality, it would have been an awful
picture. I was crying too hard to focus the camera.

~

I have looked at all the pictures taken by me and
by you at least a hundred times or more. And yes,
like you, the moments that are most precious to me
I do not have.

I have memories though, more sacred than celluloid
would have captured anyway. And for that, and the
next time with you, I now light imaginary candles,
and give thanks to the powers that be.

White Noise

Listen quietly
and you will hear
the sound of water, crying.

Snowflakes crash
on limbs, and rocks,
scream on the frozen tundra
in agonized pain.

Each crystal,
a separate sojourner,
glistens with anticipation
of the sun�s execution.

Its melting is nature�s
tears, for stories allowed
only to the oceans,
rivers, and clouds.

Listen quietly
and you will hear

the sound of water, crying.

They Had A Good Run

The end of a rainbow in Reno
cannot touch a heart
in Tasmania or Toledo
but its treasure will never fade.

Somewhere, there is golden hair
to mist the grey.

Sometimes love is not enough, sex
never the answer to prayer,
and God, how they prayed it was.

In the desert, some say it doesn�t
rain except for the tear.
Others will tell you
it never snows.

Tears cried
have created an ocean.

Six feet of snow
now covers a desert with ice
in lieu of white roses,
like a metaphysical message
from karma:

True love never binds the heart.
Chains are meant to make
the drive thru a safer journey.

Blinded by Love

A blind person does not
fear snakes; they fear low
branches of trees
and those who would ask

to taste of its fruit.
And so it is with souls
once hurt by love,

Afraid to bite again
for fear of being poisoned
by any hand
extended in gentle offer.

                                                                                                © Dane Hebert

Loch Raven Review Fall 2005 — Vol. I, No. 1
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