Maura Gage


Loving Skylar

Gently you arrive
like an eight year old dream,
daughter of my heart,
child of my soul.
Your beautiful face
flashes in my mind
like winks or stars.
You sing softly as an angel.
Your golden words
weave through and around me,
call to my heart.
I fall through night sky
whenever we're apart--
I've loved you all along;
you're a shimmering river swirling
around me, child of my dreams,
true daughter of my heart.


Banana Leaves Shining in the Moonlight

He tells her she's all body,
so physical that he could
fall in love with her fast,
that he can picture her
being comfortable--naked--thinks she could
make love to him all night,
as monsoons swirl around them,
banana leaves shining in the moonlight;
their love-making would ravish
the sky, consume the earth,
rival the storms and oceans,
then end in a release of heat
that would settle into still ponds,
his teeth marks on her skin,
a fuchsia mood striking them
until all runs silky-smooth,
and they make love again all day
as monsoons swirl around them,
banana leaves shining in sunlight,
the bleat of rain matching the bleat
of their love-making--this morning
would begin with coffee kisses,
a clock stopped on the wall,
an alarm of love rattling the walls,
until their whispers, with their silence,
makes a music all their own,
an honest language that bodies make,
the red-wine or blood of unspoken love.


The Real Country Music

Summer evening spreads wide across
the fields as stars tangle in the sky,
behind webs of interlacing clouds,

as the white moon turns its eye
towards the man who walks the roadside alone,
making silver beams surround him--

he hums along with the noises
of the country, soft and gentle as a breeze
singing through the reeds, the real country music.



Glass ghosts, glass hearts
collect dust, her heart
feeling as delicate
and able to shatter
as a glass figurine.
The powder blue sky
makes her forget her delicate
state as silver linings
come through. She reaches
for the sun,
car fumes choking her;
She tries to bind the clouds,
but somehow stars shower the day
with pink dust as she
recalls one handsome face
so far from view
she wonders if she can blow
the smoke of her life away
long enough to see him.
She climbs into the car,
starts the ignition,
weariness and dust trapping her,
loneliness propelling her,
the highway a mystery in black,
the city of her dreams
only a few exits away,
but she flies all the way to where
waves salt the shore
and starfish dance,
the ocean washing away the dust
of her sad days and the sun
rising over the shadows of her heart,
warming her into new dreams
where winds erase the sorrow
of the past and mists of water
wash one clean.

maura gage


     Maura Gage is an Associate Professor of English at Louisiana State University at Eunice. She is also editor of The Louisiana Review. Since 1998, she has lived all over--Pennsylvania, Colorado, Florida, South Carolina and in Louisiana - in a small town just a few exits west of Lafayette. She is a big fan of

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