I've been ignorant of the coming day--
as quickly as the molten clouds
amassed and the shores disclaimed--
oh they--
--
--
they slip their hands
into my own
but I -- I don't want it.
so I sleep
and I sense ----
a glinting
glen
a sleeper's conch
a lithe young cat mewing brindle
while a grasshopper quivers at
a dark and waiting haunch.
Spring?
what spring?
I see
nothing.
what melody the Japanese plum procures
for my tired ears
as the
wind
sylvan
r i s e s.
a moon slumbers now. a robin comes.
a ribbon threads my wrists together
and in the green
I wake.
a dancer disgruntled, shoes of ivory
cr ac ked.
m y rhy thm is
discordant
with the happiness I lack.
tell the birds to shutter the traps
and the
dawn beams
to take their leave ---
I'm too w
ea
k
and regretful now
to do it as if .freed.
..never.. .freed. , a
dusken thing, I am.
I sing too but the morn
wasn't called to land.
I sing too
I sing too
but it means nothing now.
For now I'm a
,,,balloon,,,
or something
oh
a plaything for the waking breeze ,
a stirred dandelion head
a dead hill painted red displayed
on mountainsides now ,misted,
by August's contemporary haze.
a tree b en d s to meet me
at the lightening glass window, it
reaches in to straddle me
and lifts me in its
fork.
out, I'm taken
like the morning trucks that
move now, dutiful yet
ever so
d is comb ob ulated.
wrap me in ribbons tree!
wrap me back in ribs!
I want to break and recreate
the night, so then, I'll sleep.
if not, rock me in your boughs
to shake me past this world.
shake me past the walking ants
and coffee cups now streaming --
shake
up
the .ground. and white coral
till I can't tell if
I'm
dreaming.
YOU ARE READING
These Hazy Days
PoetryA collection of poetry for the summer and autumn days. cover by me, on canva.com all rights reserved. ...
