FULL CIRCLE
By Jéanpaul Ferro
 

Slow, beating rain, classical jazz and piano,

Miles Davis trumpeting, dripping, bluesy, 

falling dew and rain on the blades of oaks

and blossoms of dogwood.
 

And how I hold her in my arms, hold Carla's soul like

she's heroin in this needle, shivering, quivering in my hand,

rubber band thickening the veins of my bicep for the high;

I need her that much!
 

But all the days of life slip away as if this second,

trolleys up and down a hill like you're not even there,

and to taste even all of love, how when it's gone

each day becomes a coffin . . . misery, death a quelling flame.
 

Mmm, just the sunlight through the trees of the woods,

emerald fronds of fern and glacial outwash, granite walls, everything on fire, 

warm summer jet streams coming down from Alberta over New England; 

and sometimes the gulfstream from Miami.
 

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Work by Jéanpaul Ferro has appeared in over 200 publications in 8 countries.  His short fiction and poetry has recently appeared in Portland Monthly, Hawaii Review, Newport Review, The Plaza, Haunts, Nexus, and many others.  He was recently been included in the anthology of American writers published by the Czech publishing house Votobia.