Someone said it would last right to November
this mild, still heat that gathers, gently hazed
today, as clouds of varying densities try it on.
Yellow heads, ragged-feathered globes,
and clean, white-buttoned, empty heads, yes,
dandelions cycle on sporadically and tiny,
tender, purple stars of marsh willow-herb
continue the profusion of their late blooming.
Well, after a week of these thin, southwesterly clouds,
and such long-celled intervals of sleepy beneficence,
buzzed with the epics of the big black flies,
long honey-jars of spirit batteries
are brimming with the very ooze of sunlight.
Maybe we can grow tall as trees by knitting air
or weave an emperor's superior diaphany.*
I know full well when I close my eyes the little orchard
Rackhams* full of big-eyed goblin smiles.
..................................
*Diaphany: noun I have coined from the adjective 'diaphanous'.
*Rackhams: verb I have coined from the painter's name.
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Keep The Home Fires Burning
PoetryA poetry Collection. Now Lunk has taken to his bed, swearing not to write one more word about C, and muttering 'bloody garden', it behoves (Love that word, don't you?) me (and Anima) to fill out his shoes, with soil and flower seed. So we will be 'e...
