Rilke’s for Lunch

And soon in dark green
I will lie down
and be more alive
than any dream.

See the nearby ivy,
feel the brick path
heated by the sun
that winds to a murky pond
dappled with ghostly goldfish.
By night one hears star shine trailing.
This comforting, damp, shady privacy
mirrors my interior castle.

Solid, secluded, set apart
for a work hidden,
strange, divine
like April snow on young blossoms,
influential as the moon
yet unseen,
perceived as a scent
on the breeze;
underground,
overgrown,
moist and alone—I am healing.

All around the table, cups of never happened;
no one stares, and love comes out of her shell
into my blood, trailing affirmations
of a messy rightness. Pages of delight

held in one hand, patience in the other,
my heart closes at night,
keeps the sunlight inside,
turns rain into color.

I recline at the table:
roots spread like blood
deeper and deeper
and commonize my longing.

About the Author

A graduate of Brooklyn College, MFA in Creative Writing (1986), Valerie Griggs enjoys travel and spent three summers teaching English in the People’s Republic of China. After trying her hand at songwriting, she recorded three original music CDs. She belongs to a vibrant community of poets in Long Island, New York. Recently, her poems have been published in Typishly, the 20th Performance Poets Association anthology and the Nassau County Poet Laureate Society anthology. She works as a full-time writing consultant and adjunct English instructor at Molloy College.