By Themselves Poem by Cristina M. Moldoveanu

By themselves


if people are trees then they are mostly like to be pear trees
their fruit at the height of the noon sun with sweet juice
they too fall by themselves
grubby or not with small and soft seeds because man breaks himself
to drop over the ground his teeth and bones smoothing
he melts like a honeycomb

*

at my grandma's funeral
she looked as if she lost her wrinkles in the coffin
her forehead smiled to the winter sun like water from an ice hole
when we got back from the cemetery we didn't recognize
her old and black umbrella standing in the corner of the bedroom
everyone wondered what why it was there

from one hand to another we shared the wheat porridge
and the clothes and the memories gathering new meanings
it was colder
maybe a small angel cried in the icon above the table

*

one morning I saw a rainbow
it lasted all along the road until the sky was untied from the earth