jessicacolleenmcdermott

Poetry/Creative non-fiction/fiction

House Recital in Logan, Utah December 12, 2012

Filed under: Poetry — jessicacolleenmcdermott @ 7:18 am
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That room must still exist, behind a white door,

a wood floored parlor with French doors that open

into a piano room.

 

In the corner, three bottles of opened Merlot, a plate with

sliced carrots and broccoli next to a saucer of hummus

and a pot of warm cider.

 

On your cheek, a flicker of candle light. Me on your lap,

my fingers tracing up and down your arm.

 

The hum of Debussy’s L’isle Joyeuse. The other guests

mere outlines like ghosts.

 

That 1870s house with the golden etched wallpaper and lazy

crystal chandlers. It hasn’t dissolved back into reality. Back

into nothing.

 

The rustle of programs floating onto laps and the clap of hands.

The young performer’s bow- he would be past thirty by now.

 

A black scarf looped loose around your neck, dark rushes of curly

hair down to your shoulders.

 

The smell of fire, white paned window heavy with fallen snow.

 

 

The Jump: Fire and Water July 29, 2012

Filed under: Poetry — jessicacolleenmcdermott @ 9:32 pm
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The desert is ablaze. Fine sand fire’s tips.

Lake Powell the blue root- alluring. Most

beautiful. Swiveled red rock soaked with

calcium carbonate. White rings of eternity

striped across rock faces. Then us.

 

Our glides between sweat beaten canyons,

your whisper “I feel small out here.” In

that North Carolina accent you attempt to

“enunciate” away. Burn and bury back in

the south. And forget, except to pause on

whether your parents who sent first aid kits,

flashlights, bug repellent and food still smile.

 

Erect on Crappie’s ledge, noon sun traces where

my hands drip at night. Over your shaven head, spills

onto your bare tattooed chest. You spring off, dive

head first into deep blue. I flick sand with my feet

that swirls like flecks of gold then sinks, I follow.

splash into the fire of newness that consumes- leaves

one whole.