Three Poems by David Ruekberg (Poetry ’04)

A Short Essay on Love

People talk about love and other people
talk about what love means and everyone
knows more or maybe less what they mean
when they talk about love but no one is
able to say just what it is they really
mean. We try to come up with metaphors:
Love’s a rose, love’s a two-way street.
Or definitions: It is patient and kind,
it’s a precious and delicate thing, and
so forth. Or maybe love is two nude and
neutered bobble-headed hominids touting
tired and true credos, such as “Love is
getting a hug and a compliment each and
every day.” Or as the poster says, Love
comes and goes, but people are forever,
or did I get that backwards? It’s tough
to define a thing so big that you can’t
even see. Sunrise arrives in stages—one
instant it’s so dark all you can see is
a blue so black you could fall straight
into it and the burnt branches of trees
and maybe your hand before your face if
your heart is so alive your skin glows.