Edgar's Song

I love someone I'll call Edgar. I've written a poem to him, and included this snapshot of my hometown because...well, just because.

Becky Adams
Love Song Out to Edgar

Love, oh love
loud out of tune
to a quarter moon
rich as a silver
spoon,

high as a crow
on a creosote-covered pole,

telephone signal like a blue spark
in the oven-cluster dark.

Water rushing
over and over
some wet rocks,

artists hunched
over canvases
in canvas smocks,

lay down words
like sorting out the flies
around a ginger beer.

One there,
two here,

a handful of the bright red bugs
I saw on a mountain trail
spell:

stay awhile stay
you are my holy
holy
grail.