Three Poems


Sunset In Arkansas

 

                I’m missing something.

 

I’m searching through the backroads of

                                                                  Arkansas.

A once nowhere place now

                                                               Somewhere

I can’t shake

                                                           From the mind.

What was it

                                                               Left behind?

Was it the

                                                                   Hope of

Keeping you close

                                                               That left me blind?

To travel miles and miles

Just to hear, on any given day,

                                                         Your laughter in my ear       

You

                                                         Who turned my heart to         

Honest substance.         

                                                                  

How wonderful it was to live life

When I had a

Question

And you’d always have

An answer.

 

I have a question

                                                          Now.

With no answer,

                                                         Nowhere.

For it was you who gifted it

To me.

That line of 

                                                     The sunset of Arkansas

Being the saddest thing

                                                      And all that.

I search for it

                                                      Desperate, wishing

It could be so easy

                                                      To call and ask.

But, instead,

                                                      I remember us driving through

Arkansas and not thinking

                                                      Anything sad at all

Because there was the music

And the orange horizon

And it could have been sunrise or

Sundown

                                                       And all would be well.

 

It’s simple, I keep it that way.

                                                      We chose our own roads.

Your’s on the journey

                                                        To find God

And I looked,

                                               In the next greyhound bus.

                                    This is how it goes.

Simple.

                                    We chose our devotions, and

I went flying since

                                    Finding It couldn’t be you.

 

Now all I’ve got are these backroad words

                                    But what good is a half-formed sentence?

Something

                                    Like an exclamation

Of:  “Oh my god        

                                    You have no idea how sad it is!”

How sad it is.

 

On the constant

                                    I see the sun in Arkansas.

Trailing the backroads,

                                    Shining down on something useless. 

           

                        Oh my God.

                        I miss you so much.


New Jewelry

 

          There they lay.

          Gleaming

          Gun-Metal Tree,

          Sterling Hammer, and

          Diamond Basketball.

                                        

                                      Ash contained

                                      In silver,

                                      Once blood

                                      Under soft skin;

                                      And the hearts, well,

                                      They’ve retired from that plight.

 

                                                                  When I finish crying,

                                                                  Of course,

                                                                  I am young.  I wonder:

                                                                  What shape will I fit?

                                                                  What would most suit

                                                                  The eyes of loved ones

                                                                  To wear over their chest?

 

                                                                                            If I dissolve myself,

                                                                                           While my heart is still pumping,

                                                                                           Perhaps I can thin the bones down

                                                                                           As to not freak

                                                                                          Whoever's fingers

                                                                                          Clutch the plastic full of gray.

 

               I’ll do it for you,

               Anything.

 

                          But could I ask for diamonds?

                            Gold or amethyst?

                            So I may be worthy of your neck.

                            So I may see

                            Barcelona or Montreal,

                            Or hear music,

                            The sweetest music not sung

                             Just yet.

                  

                                          Take me dancing.

                                           Let me listen in

                                           On The Secret I never knew then.

                                           Introduce me to friends

                                           Ahead of my time

                                           Then, back to the ocean

                                           Who needs no reintroduction.

 

                                                              No matter.

                                                              Put me in a form

                                                              Of your own choosing

                                                              To flatter personal senses.

                                                               I don’t care much for crosses

                                                              Yet do what you must.

 

I love you and you are happy

To wear, there,

Some trace of beauty. 


A Party Of The People I Love

 

 I want to sit back

At a party with all the people I love

 And watch them swim,

Splashing over

       Heartbreak and Serious Conversation;

Maybe there will be wine,

 Maybe that and the scene

      (Whose children are these?)

 Eases me

To recline.

 

It's the most beautiful film.

They don't wonder where their audience lay,

They simply wash water gently along

This summer day that could be

A thousand other things

          But is this

Light Sunday in May.

 

Dogs drink from sprinkler,

The teenagers out for a walk,

 The radio plays our favorite song.

           Someone comes up,

            “Are you drunk?”

But I don’t drink any longer.

I only smile

Into the eyes of a new friend and

Wonder intently of an old one.

 

 Somewhere down the line,

This script was put to paper.

I read it and said yes

God-directed, co-written

We insert:

 She sits back

Watching

A party of the people she loves.

             Cut to black.


Cover image: open road. Sourced from Pinterest.


Iris Lockhart

is a poet and content creator based in Phoenix, Arizona. Her debut book of poetry, Miracles Below My Feet, is expected in December 2026.

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Three Poems