Cherokee Roses
I laid at your feet as you
Gathered my hair
Like straw
The winds spoke our names
Celestial flutes prophesied
We wore white smoke
From the pipes of my forefathers~Cherokee
Roses blessed our steps as we knelt like deer
Before crystal streams
Leaves’ wrinkled palms landed gently
Upon our heads as we bathed
In bursting flames of fireflies
_____________________
Nostalgia
i can smell your cologne
between the pages of your poetry
a mixture of flowers and wine
did you kiss each page before writing
did your breast pretend to be music
holding a
whole note
your hands must ache
longing to feel timeless
nostalgia
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Serena Tome writes from the edge of Atlanta, GA. She is the poetry editor for Leaf Garden Press. She has literary work published and/or forthcoming in, Ann Arbor Review, BlazeVox, Word Riot, Calliope Nerve, Word for Word, Moon Milk Review, and many other publications. She is co-editor of Differentia Press. You can find out more about Serena at http://www.serenatome.blogspot.com.