Liilia Talts Morrison Poems

I want to be a green branch
In vineyards of the Lord
To grow in strength and beauty
As leaves to light unfold
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I watch a little crab a'crawling
Along the briny sand of an abandoned beach
His footprints are so fragile and quite fleeting
Obliterated soon by wind and rising tide
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As campfire flames still upward danced
Full knowing they would die
So was our fireside love a trance
A doomed and searing lie
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A cold compote is now on the table,
Rich fruit and dark syrup in a tureen.
The hand that cooked it is more than able
And tops it with richest of cream.
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Moving on those time worn roads
Places, spaces, old abodes
Decades melting heavy loads
Graces, paces goading toads
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Today I saw a fallow field
Where last year rows of grain had grown
On warm earth resting from past chores
Dry reeds now formed a gentle shield
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Cardboard jewels twist around dried petals
On black frayed pages, gray with age
Little babies in stiff starched bonnets
Perch on laps of stern parents
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Fingers touching photo albums,
Hands are gnarled, where veins unfold.
Eyes still shiny, though much paler,
Scan those fragments, now grown old.
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Mexico Lindo crowds my soul
A land where colors rule the day.
Its people have small hope or goal.
With poker face life’s cards they play.
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Another raft washed to the shore
another story told
another incident at sea
of souls and bodies bold
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