Two Poems by Daye Phillippo

We shared a secret,

                                       the morning moon
and I, she who has just begun her wane
and I who am further along—waning
is not to be feared, it’s just the journey
toward being made new. Emptied to be
filled, and all, seasons on their wheel.
This morning’s sky, a faded, soft pastel
like the pink umbels of Joe Pye Weed
and the hostas’ lavender flutes, stirring
in the breeze. And out front, the pale
sweet pea blossoms, almost translucent
color of the moon, delicately edged
with lavender on vines that have, by July,
tendrilled to the top of their teepee
and now tumble over themselves, lavish
opulence of blossom and fragrance
in which I’m immersed as I clip flowers
to refresh the vases. Refuge of tendril
and vine where a hummingbird pauses
to rest, refresh herself before flying on.

*

Washing Your Face with a Pink Washcloth

      Well, something’s lost, but something’s gained in living every day.
      “Both Sides Now” – Joni Mitchell

Washing your face with a pink washcloth
dried on the line is like washing your face
with evening sky. Breathe it in before bed.
Blessed are those who walk to the barn
to secure chickens for the night, witness
a wide sky piled high with gray and white,
pink backdrop that didn’t last, dissolved
the way cotton candy and youth dissolve,
sugar away in the mouth, the way what you
expected this time of life to be is not,
yet, here you are, feet still on the ground,
head still in the clouds, washing your face
with sky and that song about clouds you
learned on piano when you were young,
only song you actually wanted to play.
Tonight you’ll rest your head on a cloud,
soft pillowcase fragrant with wind and
wondering, clouds and years, their colors
and shapes, trajectories, their brighten
and fade, accumulations and dispersals,
flashes and rumblings, just how much
clouds can hold back before the rain falls,
and their longstanding relationship with
wind that drives the storyline, beginning
to end. Stage right, stage left, third wall.
What will it all look like from the other side?

*

Daye Phillippo taught English at Purdue University. Her poems have been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and selected by ETS for inclusion in the AP English Exam. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in Poetry, Valparaiso Poetry Review, The Midwest Quarterly, LETTERS, One Art, and many others. She lives and writes in rural Indiana where she hosts a Poetry Hour at her local library. Thunderhead, her first collection, was published by Slant in 2020. Her second collection of poems, Blue Between Owls, was awarded the 2024 Codhill Press Pauline Uchmanowicz Poetry Award and is forthcoming from Codhill Press.