A bittersweet afternoon, where the skies above were the palest blue.
Where white cotton clouds roamed slow
Of life’s tragedy, what did we know….
On that day, you wanted only the dark water.
The lagoon where golden fins wiggled like brass stars.
Celestial bodies born to a pool of dark water.
On that day,
The brass stars of gold that wiggled through the dark water
These captured your genius the work of your hands,
The fishing pole made from a stick and blanket yarn
Unraveled to fit and the tongue of a pop can
Your face so angelic not a worry unfurled.
We did not know then your future in this world.
Like a portrait in a frame
Like my memories are these reframes
May you sit there forever fishing for stars
Within life’s shadowed waters searching for that shimmering spark
In death, young death,
You swam away from us. Into the dark sleep that eternal night.
I remember you most collecting goldfish in a paper cup.
And then when the sun wavered to set
I remember you returning them all that you caught
The amber fish back into the lagoon so others might
Be dazzled by their wonderous golden light.
May my heart dare to remember.
With stars in my eyes, may my soul dare to deem,
I know your soul’s at peace still may dream.
On that perfect day that long ago July seventh…
On that perfect picnic where you found your Heaven.
Marchell Dyon is a poetry enthusiast. She enjoys reading poetry wherever she can find it. Once she was nominated for the best of the net prize for her poem As I Stand by My Window Dreaming of Falling. Her most recent publications are Toasted Cheese Lit Journal, Medusa’s kitchen, and Agape Review. She has taken many poetry workshops; her education and thirst to improve her craft has constantly developed despite having both schizophrenia and bipolar disorders. She continues to live and write in Chicago IL.