A Poem by Marie Anzalone

first of three poems inspired by a series of extraordinarily vivid dreams these past two weeks


We are being assailed by an enemy

small enough to ride dust particles

like knights rode steeds to storm

strongholds of foreign lands, like

missionaries carried dogma to

unsuspecting hearts and minds. This

enemy also does not discriminate;

it does not matter which books you

have read or in how many languages

you can quote Shakespeare, or how

many times you fall to your knees

to pray every day. I dreamed last week,


I did not survive, that I died and left

you behind; you my life’s greatest

challenge, you my deepest secret

and most enduring enigma.

I can count on one hand

the number of things I could not walk

away from- having abandoned lovers,

companies, continents, families;

but in the end,

we all must stand for something.

If I do die before you...


Promise me, you will love again.

Promise me, you will plant me in

the fertile ground of the desire of your

heart and lift me to the winds. If you

find me beautiful, honor me by

visiting the most beautiful place you

can imagine and read my poetry

to its excesses. If you think I am strong,

find a place where the waves batter a

coastline or a mountain touches

the sun and know that everything

I fought for still lives, through you.


Wrap my memory around you like

a blanket to keep you warm on a

cold night; cook something I loved

to eat and offer it to a new woman

who comes to you like I did,

hand out, so many questions,

making infinite mistakes,

carrying a dream of a passion

so intense that it turns waiting for a

kiss into a mantra for the rebirth

of seasons and the most perfect

single word on a blank page, written

in sepia ink and a photograph

that does not fade even in the

strongest sunlight. 

Let the sun kill

viruses but never memories; let

it inspire new seeds into trees as

tall as ours, as tall as dreams.

© 2020 Marie Anzalone

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Added on May 1, 2020
Last Updated on May 1, 2020


Marie Anzalone
Marie Anzalone

Xecaracoj, Quetzaltenango, Guatemala

Bilingual (English and Spanish) poet, essayist, novelist, and technical writer working in Central America. "A poet's work is to name the unnameable, to point at frauds, to take sides, start argume.. more..