Summer
Summer tiptoes
into the air
with the change of heat.
It brings slipping, slidding, swim suit fun.
It gallops out of touch.
Just as silently as it leaps in,
It leaves us cold again.
Digte om emnet: summer
Digte om emnet “summer” på Poets.by.
The Way Rain Is~~ (Haiku)
Rain’s smell in summer,
How it looks on the pavement,
How it feels on skin…
On Reaching Old Age
Time is fleeting in its passing
And does jolt the memory
Recalling images of long ago
When life seemed to stretch far away
Safe from Death’s stalking shadow.
As a child I thought as a child
Seeing only bright summer days
With friendships I thought to last forever
And parents who could never die
Old age a distant foreign land.
Now walking the land of the elderly
Old bones and old man troubles
Wondering how long before Death
No longer stalks but claims me
And time is no longer fleeting and stops.
Drunkenness 3
What do you concentrate on
and who do you know?
Driving mother's blue Buick
over a country dirt road
the girl's huge tits, your ardor
enough to just about weep
and escape or college friendship
dull, secure, to sleep.
You did find your way home
one late summer afternoon
the shadows of the green leaves
their washing sound
exquisite tender sentiment
neither here nor there.
No putting out the fire
with water pure as the rain
Four O'Clock
an hour
after summer equinox
breviaries
bell tone of vespers
two children swimming
among ten thousand salmon
teach the children
how to catch fish
with their hands
that
any trout
interested in taking chances
will kiss their fingers
that
in a summer solstice
bees land on their nose
From an Undelivered Birthday Card
The way with June is this:
it ends
(and first it's my sister's birthday)
then it ends
Today in the smell of
elderberry blossoms
today in the colour of
rice crispies on a steel spoon of milk
today in the hand of
putty & windowglass of
getting confused/fingers/putty oil/ not really finding/
a way/looks bad/keeps falling out/the depth/of the
impossibility/thickness/frush/fruss/infinite heartless
boredom/shit/frustration
of desire to know/therefore control
Or Awhile
Sunspek (A haiku)
Memories of childhood
The sweetness of summer comes
Bursting on my tongue
The Oven Bird
There is a singer everyone has heard,
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
He says that leaves are old and that for flowers
Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten.
He says the early petal-fall is past
When pear and cherry bloom went down in showers
On sunny days a moment overcast;
And comes that other fall we name the fall.
He says the highway dust is over all.
The bird would cease and be as other birds
But that he knows in singing not to sing.
The question that he frames in all but words
Is what to make of a diminished thing.
Hyla Brook
By June our brook’s run out of song and speed.
Sought for much after that, it will be found
Either to have gone groping underground
(And taken with it all the Hyla breed
That shouted in the mist a month ago,
Like ghost of sleigh-bells in a ghost of snow)--
Or flourished and come up in jewel-weed,
Weak foliage that is blown upon and bent
Even against the way its waters went.
Its bed is left a faded paper sheet
Of dead leaves stuck together by the heat--
A brook to none but who remember long.
This as it will be seen is other far
Than with brooks taken otherwhere in song.
We love the things we love for what they are.
Midsummer Morn
A tom-tom sun awakens day's jungle with heat beats
The moon was a white war canoe moored to the night
Morning stars scurry to cover like shaking hares fearful of the Great Yellow Hunter
Last night's tall hunchback fishing in a pool of raven's breasts is a green elm tree
Thin wings of grass pound helplessly against hard ground
And the robins are no longer afraid . . .
Reunion
reunion—
Summer fans spinning
conversations
the fortune at least
marks my place
Late Summer
late summer
the water striders jerky strokes
across the stream