Two Poems for Sarah Fish

I say, as we have said so many times
To the sister of my soul, with love.
To the woman who takes
The verbal snapshots we aren’t quick enough for.
Who takes our fleeting young emotions
And digital-aged communications
And finds beauty
Wonderment.
Oh, brave new world that has such poetry in it!
Awestruck Miranda herself would be pressed to be as moved as I,
Upon reading your lettered sculptures.
Though, it is true, I am as untrained in great words as her eyes were untrained on men.
Still, it was her openness to beauty
That lent credit to her exclamations.
And so I, captive to your words at
Pen-point
Read on as though you were Dickenson, Sappho, Shakespeare,
Or some other pirate of my eyes and mind,
Rather than the sister with whom my soul grew,
The tree whose branches mine confuses with,
Watered in a small town, drowned in a city,
Revived in a poem.
You are the tree-surgeon of my heart.
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In my home there is a Fish.
My favorite Fish of the sea.
You may say there are others there,
But only one Fish for me.
With her mighty tail she calms the tides,
Her gills take toxic waste in stride,
She smiles at me when I scuba dive
And writes sweet words for me.
Though far away, my Sarah Fish
Is just my cup of tea!