Summer Daze Alone

A familiar air,

cloudless sky,

Listen to the sounds of a backyard,

tree trimmers, grass cutters, BBQ-ing neighbors,

listen to the children with innocent screams nearby.

 

He would understand,

their natural allegiance to the land

around them being an open playground,

his own did the same,

decades earlier,

on similar days,

a cloudless sky,

the sounds of summer daze.

 

Yet there is a familiar air,

perhaps we call it the resistance,

we felt it when twelve years old looking out the picture window,

a light rain, yet friends gathering,

and him,

staying inside,

pretending to not exist,

though experiencing all of the psychological trauma,

that associates our lives with the living.

 

He would find himself in that place again,

today,

while the world outside embraced the summer skies,

his mind in a fog,

wondering about time, wondering where,

curious just why he falls into this mental cavern of

indecision,

it is the time he remembers as a boy,

wondering in the moment,

not knowing beyond the day,

yet now, in the quiet midnight,

the same question remains.

 

 

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Elegance Revisited on a Summer Lawn

elegant

Sweet summer sounds begin night’s revelry

We gather newly, friends of every

walk of life distant paths did create

a journey that brings us here to this date.

Scan sure across the lawn and see each new

smile, response, laughter suggests we all knew

one another in time, another place

when life moved fast, our hearts barely at pace.

Visions complete alluring escapade

her eyes appear, are met by shadowed shade

A sudden stir captures the minions,

sweet elegance presents your white linens

I can only watch your beauty in grace

while everyone near, forgets our embrace.

Winter Winds

Cool air

soaking in the forest quiet nearby

we know it waits

we realize our lives will need warmth,

we are readily restored by a the sharp brace

of winter winds

makes us feel alive again.

A society relies upon the changing seasons to market their lives,

where else would we find ourselves planning for the latest fashion

without the guarantee …

temperature is dropping.

I get a little nervous sometimes when reminded

of that part of nature I don’t understand,

beyond the shelter of my walls,

well past the peace of a kindling fire,

I want to know more about the friend who is suffering,

yet, I’d rather not,

if I just look the other way,

well then,

it didn’t really happen did it.

Unless I turn on the news,

there are constant reminders

of a cool air well beyond the concept of our dreams.

A society exists with every interaction,

we can decide to associate

or simply get involved in the smallest manner possible.

We choose a limitless supply of polite escape.

~

When the winds do arrive I will notice as much as I hope you do too,

we are the same as we were when in the heat of a tropical sunlight

we could smile.

Whisper Autumn

While skies begin a stretch of cooler winds

body seeming to recognize limits

each stepping stone, virtual time rescinds

calculate further storm than time admits.

~

A child witness color – aging leaves

headstrong emotions tacked upon crackles

like a midnight fire sparks ember heaves

slow to respond yet beauty sheds shackles.

~

Perhaps a few more days together walks

a couple in a distance twinkling lights

certain ambience listens, cadenced clocks

strike hours, minutes, gathering delights.

~

Shadows interact well the wintry skies.

Spiritual songs sound sweet mating cries.

Sigh, Autumn

A heavy weight streams beyond a worried eye

skin tease a glint of aftershock in sky,

summer wind reveals the loss, Her hot ardor

romantic wisp, now memories adore

~

When as a lad out the doors I could run

passion a reminder of setting sun

hours ahead an arctic ground would near

then frozen ice and cool air’s freeze so dear.

~

Today the sensuous beauty of mind

play a melody for we are in kind

a humanity compelled beyond land

without innocence simple reprimand.

~

Would that the open sky begin to cry

I’m left in comfort, still wondering why.

School Doors Knocking

I can hear the sound at night,

the clasp when the handle shakes

as the door slams shut.

This is not an offensive sound,

simply the mechanics of the entry

to my classroom.

Tonight, while I lay in bed,

having usurped the beauty of summer’s heat,

my head is gradually shifting,

a knowing, necessary accentuate

response to the coming days

when they will enter

with needs, smiles, ideals, attitudes,

trust.

For there is no other place for their hearts

to be expanded, loved, and crucified.

In the classroom,

where their lives will intermix

with dozens of others,

all with the same goals in mind,

yet interrupted by the cycle of education.

I can hear the sound at night,

the clasp when the handle shakes

as the door slams shut.

I have to dream a little bit,

perhaps figure out a way,

to prop that door

wide open.

Summer is Now a Reflection

summer

I came to realize her days are numbered

the scent of blossom begins to wane,

slowly drawn toward eventual harvest,

night skies begin to shift our eyes

upon constellate cooler streams

of light to suggest her time has come.

~

In evening breeze we listen clear

the melody of a cricket greeting

Nature’s compelling stronghold

upon this ever changing season.

Symbolic gestures while humanity

will stretch opportunity beyond

the natural course of time.

We do believe we can do this.

~

Is that a seething comedy of error

to compel, this generated heat

present inside a space of hours

will draw our lives toward fantasy.

An orb of energy plays brilliant

while all about Her gifts recede.

~

That, natural course of time evolves,

will always leave, swift sated skin.

~

* photo found on Pinterest