Sestina: Moving West / by Heather Taylor

It’s the first treasured find
that gives you over to love,
a fool that is made to make
that hasty transatlantic move
and create a new life, pierce
through the void however you can

like a “knock-em” 3 stacked can.
Gotta look, gotta see, gotta find
the feeling that finally pierces,
gives your heart over to love
yet you sit there, wait for his move
the one you wanted to make

and still wait to make
as he saunters to his tin can
of a car, signalling his move
the one you were afraid to find.
It’s tricky, this thing called love
Tony, Brad, George, Phillip, Pearce

a carousel of names arrows pierce
or pass by, fluttering eyes make
love.
Should you? Can
you give into the find,
another knight to pawn move

that transports, moves
you westward, the sun piercing
eyes with blue, hotter than you’d find
any of the places you make
home. This is the story of can
of finding love

Will you do it my love
will you follow the move
of the motorway, can
you give me a piece of you to pierce,
give way to make
you my only find.

Our agendas met: Find love,
make move,
pierce souls as softly as you can.