Girls in Plum Sweaters

what can girls in plum sweaters

be expected to know of loss

as they pass the shovel among friends

unorated letters on pretty stationary drift

in the wind – as earth hard-hits the coffin

inside sweatered pruning friend on white satin

outside they, fresh as dropped stitches

from a single skein of yarn

creating a forever hole

in matching plum sweaters,

dirt under fingernails

cold wind in their fresh washed  hair

Whorled

Here you are from womb whirling to mountaintop majesty

Wandering, wondering, wondrous, laughing, slip-sliding

Infant dimple fingered hold on that slice of eternity

In the years tumble, tempest-joy-uncertain-clear trek

Always in soft certitude of the light of stars – sparkling

With a clear true flame – born under, carried within and

yours to share – from first blink of fathomless eyes

reflecting the mountaintop from where you came, from

where you now stand, all pinpointed celestial eternity behind

ahead and shimmering within you, this day, as each day

forward flooded filled with all – from first drop of sweet milk

to sting of bitter herbs upon the tongue, whirling, floating

aquamarined waters to iced-arctic whitened snowflakes

whirling from infant milestones to the crack of a bat vibrating-

beasts gentle lumbering, emotion-swirl beginnings, incomprehensible

endings rolled in burgeoning intellect -until your own

first shimmering thoughts coalesced writ- read

reflecting something beyond, yet within, familiared comfort-clear,

life-love flowing up each step of whirling, womb-walk,

footfall steadied with each tumbled year, to stand here today

on the mountaintop eyes filled fathomless deep as at that first blink at the

whirling tumbled tempested wonder of it all spread before, around

and within you in timeless kaleidoscopic shifts of endless configuration

Enjoy the journey and the unexpected vision of mountaintops without acme

Revel in strong legs to climb, clear eyes to see, and the wondered whirl writ

in unique imprimatur whorled in your infanted dimpled fingered tip reaching

from then mystic manifestation, whirling through the considered now, into

this mindful moment – breathe the clear cool air of your mountaintop of your

horizonless forever

by Pearl Ketover Prilik

Dr. Pearl Ketover Prilik is a freelance writer/psychoanalyst. She has had three non-fiction books published, posts poetry daily online, and has online publication credits.