A poem for Margarite from Megan McKenna's MARRO of MYSTERY

I was introduced to Megan Mckenna this past spring at a Lenten service held at Calvary Episcapol Church in Memphis. She is a wonderful storyteller and writer. I love the following poem. I am posting it in memory of a Margarite McKeithen. She had the most beautiful "crinkles" around her beautiful smiling eyes. Happy memories for sure.

September Blues

procelain vase against the cream wall

old bruises fading on fair skin

herons dusky in late afteroon heat

small flowers part white, part puple

fluttering against dry green leaves.

Eyes of a robin's egg though more lasting;

blurs of memories, faces long and newly dead

silk brushing and sliding liquid against skin

and a feather found in wet grass---a jay's discarded shirt.

Lilies letting go. The line between night and day

veils around the moon on an evening of thunderstorms.

Water in deep caverns leaning heavily towards the luster of ebony.

Obsidian wings flashing in bright light while raven and crow

bicker and clamor for attention.

Iris petals light on the fringes of violet.

Lavender and thistle, corn and bells wild in fields and old veins

rich in the arms of a widow

tears on a face allowed to fall

bones of a deer picked coyote-clean

fur on the paws of wolf in a trap

held in steel dull and deadly.

Just blues.

I want to write a hopeful poem

beak open the egg shells with gleaming whites and thick suns of courage

and make a cake of brownies rich and chewy.

I want my plants to flower now.

I want to take my finger and touch ever so gently the lined faces of friends

and honor the many wrinkles in the old, turning the creases

into crinkles of laughter.

I want the hate, the rape, the fighting on huge and small scales to stop. And

I want peace to be taken up as international pastimes,

obsessions and addiction.

I want earth and my hearth and community to feel like it's

home, a dwelling place

secure where the poor can't wait to open the door after the long day.

I want hope to roll up her sleeves, stand and resist and cuss

and sing

and catch everyone off guard. Make it be so.

I want this fall to be one of harvest and hope. Amen.

--Megan McKenna