SUNDAY MORNING Julie Benetar

SUNDAY MORNING, Julie Benatar

still she plays, Heidi Gubser

Putting away my piano music, I stumble across a book of pieces Belonging to my sister I flip to a random page, wondering What this one sounds like

I play the first few notes Silver-colored and soft And then I remember

It is the piece my sister used to play For hours, no end Because she loved the way it sounded

Christmas nights, The notes would serenade us Lights sparkled bright And we listened

She played it at family meals In our grandparents’ house The smiles on our faces always grew. Protected, I knew we would feel

The fireplace crackled Our fingers traced raindrops, Racing each other down windows. But her fingers found their way To the piano

I play through the piece My own fingers fall On the wrong notes I pause at each page turn

But I remember our little Christmas tree The family dinners The fireplace and the raindrops

My sister still plays the piece sometimes Brokenly, from memory Always differently because she forgets How it really was

I watch her eyes close And her body sway gently, A wind chime in the breeze

The breeze might turn Into a malicious howling wind But still she plays

Our tears might sparkle Instead of tree lights But still, she plays

mother, Via Niforatos

lie down & watch the earth exhale in a one-colored calm taste the virgin moonlight & the smoke rising from that chamomile field to the left. i trace the cobalt clouds with my fingertips dig my nails into the earth cleanse myself in soil and breathe in the sunrise. trace my thighs on green light & dandelion wine-

close your eyes & touch the sky above you- map the stars by how they feel to the hand- feel the sun rising, know the name of the moon on the day you died smell your immortality in the sage & asphodel around you. the green colored wind sounds in the grass as it sways, seeking the earthborn prophets & pastures of the calm cold cliffside land.

remember the ground growing around your feet & the grass you lie your little life on. know that earth will become earth once more. spend days memorizing the mauve mud & flowers & wine. make life an ode to the earth from where i rose & the earth where i will rest. kiss the rain- be still be simple be grounded & be still lie on the cliffs & lilacs sending the seething wildflowers & willows home.

let us come back from empty decades gaea cannot reign in hills to imprint on your spine: listen to the land lay your flesh into the earth listen to the dirt root your body in meadows cling your soul to the grass & green colored wind- drowning the drowsy whispers & wonders of the calm, cold cliffside land.

earth becomes earthdrink in the equinox linger in the sky bury your heels in the ground glide through the cycles of this earth & the briefness of forever