“Make Use”

Make use for the things around you.

A glass Mason jar used once for Lantana

takes over the cherry dresser,

water sits at the bottom

for someone to drink.

Wooden jewelry box,

possessed by

hand engraved wildflowers

that grow on top, filled with secrets.

Secret dreams of faraway places sneak into her thoughts.
Places she has been.

Italy, Switzerland, Costa Rica, the British Virgin Islands from the West to the East coast, all in between the meridians that make up a map of the United States.

She travels to see, brown hair, black hair, red hair, blond hair, caramel hair, light skin, dark skin, vanilla skin, red skin and freckle skin. Kids that play on dirt pathways and ride bicycles barefoot. Rastafari yells out…. “want some weed…?” Laugh. A Laugh.

The sea invades a city called Venice that floods her canals by the Adriatic. “Wear thigh high boots they say.” Relics on the streets of arched palaces that take her into the Sistine Chapel— Rome. Michelangelo covered ceiling that veil the chapel interior surface as time lapse shows the presence and the wear of Art.

The wooden jewelry box closes back shut to hide secrets.

A pile of nearly warm sheets

forgotten,

cascades over

the bare bed,

towels waiting

for someone to fold.

Roses painted orange sit on the wall of canvas.

Remind her of Georgia O’Keefe

the roses unfurl, resembling

female furrows.

Stacks of books
“Bandit Letters,”
“Three Cups of Tea,”
“The Book Thief,”

Sit

by the window sill,

pages open and read.

Secret gatekeepers,

that trespass

boundaries and landscapes.

Porcelain mother of pearl

Japanese dragon lamp,

a gift with a shade

sparks when the light comes on.

A vintage from her Great Uncle.

Green yoga mat waits as her feet

touch it,

a full journal

a jiving elephant

on the front, filled with more secrets.

Acoustic guitar in the background,

radiates from iPod speakers

High-heeled sequined shoes,

ocean waves splash through her mind.

A museum is on the road side,

disguised as the southern landscape.

She sees the sandy ocean and rolls of

flat surfaces.

Green grazing grass as her feet dig

to touch sand granules.

Secrets reveal from the hand engraved

wooden jewelry box.

A mason jar with water holds Daffodils,

and mourns the loss of Lantana.

Dreams of faraway places creep into her thoughts,

her human museum bulges as her identity.

The books are gatekeepers…freedom keepers.

Roses painted orange become female folds and femininity.

Japanese dragon lamp,

her Great Uncle shares his life.

She puts it all in and

makes use.