By Clayton E. Clark
Out there in the dark
beside the garden path
Night-Jasmine blooms.
Do you see their sparkle?
See the soft kisses
they lay on each other
lit beneath the moon?
They relax some when no one
looks, when no one admires
or praises them.
Profound, almost
invisible, little Goddesses
ready to soften the blow
if you stumble. They’ll lift
and cradle you, show you
the stars, perfume
your end of day
ruminations.
But don’t get too
attached, stay too long,
try to hold on forever. Their
sweet scent has been known
to cause sentimentality, nausea,
even send headaches downwind.
Clayton Clark is a poet and painter who majored in Art History at UCLA. Born and raised in San Pedro, California, she now resides in Montecito. She’s held many odd jobs, not the least of which involved raising two boys. Exploration and intense curiosity are the driving forces in her creative work. Also by this poet: "Drought Tolerant" and "Genius"