Ghazel (9/10/11)

Ghazel (9/10/11)

by Brandon

Won’t you stay, beloved. Coals glowing, we abide
or in the river, flowing, we abide.

The hats lost in crosswinds, pulled below the currents,
sunburned faces above the surface showing, we abide.

So you’ve died and so will I, but
with you in memory growing, we abide.

Though the scales are rigged by lack of faith in
the weight of grass after mowing, we abide.

Skin scrapped onto boulders climbed, dust on books we read.
As we disintegrate, let go slowly of what we’re owing, we abide.

Brandon Cesmat’s writing appears in journals such as Perigee, Weber: the Contemporary West and Other Voices International. His most recent books are Light in All Directions (Poetic Matrix) and When Pigs Fall in Love (Caernarvon). He was the poetry editor for A Year in Ink, Vol. 5: San Diego Writers, Ink.  He teaches literature & writing at CSU San Marcos and conducts poem writing workshops for CPITS.