RJ Ingram

By Downtowngal via Wikimedia Commons

It’s noon & I am crying in the rotunda
Someone has died or is about to
And I can’t remember the color of my
Lover’s eyes even though they are as
Hazel as wood split by a woodpecker
And I know what the word hazel means
But in this moment I am breathless
Because I cannot see them have not
Watched them open & close for months
It seems this autumn has burrowed
Itself into a copper den to rest but
We as we cross our paths between
The statuettes under the gold dome
Notice the small fires inside our tears

RJ Ingram lives in Oakland where he is finishing an MFA in creative writing with concentrations in poetry and creative nonfiction from Saint Mary’s College of California. RJ works as a poetry and social media editor for Omnidawn Publishing. Recent work can be found at Alice Blue, Sugar Mule, and Pinwheel. His cat Brenda lives in North Carolina and lost a leg according to the Congressional Record.