Erik Pecukonis

Love Poem

They had deployed their love
                                    often with unknown purposes in many
                                                            ‘Once’    after leaving
she looked around her shoulder
through the back screen door to see shuddering
                         the Birch bending from side to side and   he
with a musket at his shoulder taking aim at a turkey-buzzard in the tree.
                        And the limbs and broad shoulders of the Birch   now
 dusty blonde  and  still
                        sunny     as he held himself there  blurred.
                                    Later they had
a conversation about it
             strewn around a fit
            of  other gifts.


A past that is fabricated from someone else’s common anxieties you       think you both share you’ve both
wove or are weaving it with certain
hopes   now you see in the form of great luminous
diamonds that reflect you and her or him/her or her/him back into
an image of wings now
luminous black
feathers fall off and grow out continuously
from time to time
it’s like something
you whispered once  in a prayer
you imagined someone else saying
on the bus
it is something about someone else
mouthing something you both
share that after looking away
brings you soon
back to it
again and again, the way
another mouth moves inside
your own suddenly—‘the tide was
groaning, its joys
even if momentary
caught the sun and shone
bright in such a common


Erik Pecukonis is a writer and musician living in Baltimore City, Maryland. His work has been featured in What Weekly, NEBO, Stylus, Welter, and Artichoke Haircut. He studied English at the University of Maryland, College Park.

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