Erin Castaldi

lilacs

perfume the wind

beneath stars

we toast to 

a new world

the winds asks

how long

before dreams

become a part

of moon song

pine, oak, spruce, cedar

where is it you

fall away to

when life grows

unrelenting

sapphire sky

layers of cloud

descend upon earth

in spaces of

summer light

the point

of ambition when

burning stars invite

us to dance 

penniless in the end

more cricket

than cicada

grandmother’s 

black and white

beehive