Monday, September 28, 2015

half moonstone's throw ...









That coral-vermillion moon half ....
shuttered light-well to Oz
captivated me all night: 

being
driving
walking
standing
poised 

upon a ledge that has become comfortably edge-like
 . . .   what is it ?
is it Fall ... ?
ding dong the witch is dead fall ? 
no
it is more
this otherworldly tincture of days
this moonglow spell of night
casting ancient dreams from yellow school buses & winged horses
constellations shift shadows into suspended seconds
laced to underwear & footballs
casting visions
A longing to be 15 .. ok ... maybe 16
lanky & full with secret words of lace in my pockets
we kiss

in grass, on beds, on bikes, in rivers . .  because we are young
well,
you are 17 with tamed arrogance & mahogany bones
the milky way & every nasturtium belong to us
I know what you look like in mornings and can smell you on my fingers
innocence seeds trust long fired in the bowels of mordor & mirth
bodies are lithe & limber twined naked and easy
our tongues play cribbage against lips pink & curious & sure
paused on backs flat upon earth sumac-red-deep 

and
 ,,, softly
suddenly. . .
the electric panes of glass slide
revealing
home 

in
the moon 

4 comments:

  1. "innocence seeds trust long fired in the bowels of mordor & mirth"

    Oh...you really know how to say it!
    Love this!

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  2. I cannot believe the twist of words, the encapsulation of moments...the surprise.

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  3. thank you DiAnne & Niamh … ❀

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  4. Oh, this poem just stops my breath...still brilliant!

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