Two Poems by Celia Gilbert
THE SOLITARY ONE
For so long the ground was worked,
then, growth bestowed itself
not as recompense but
generosity.
Cactus
with your aureole of spines
only the
air
dares embrace you .
SHE COMES TO HIM ON THEIR ANNIVERSARY
Gloves tossed away,
open, rapturous, empty hands.
Water glass by the bed.
Something old at last broken.
Something new, at last, joined.
The bridle is worn,
the land bows its neck, gleaming.
