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On a Quilted Ridge

The way morning bleeds through to night. My thoughts are a quiet park free of whimsical birdsong and children’s laughter on Saturday afternoon’s eternal summer. From the bench you’re on a quilted ridge sleek as a southern hiccup weaving through cedar where pine needles flourish by your dimming light. I sink softly, a freshly formed puddle fallen below. The sky unembroidered.

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Darren White

Date: 5/4/2017 11:27:00 AM

Phillip, my poetic friend, yes it's always a plus when poems are poetic. This one is beautiful. Sink under that pine tree, free of thoughts and enjoy an unembroidered sky

Phillip Garcia
Date: 5/6/2017 12:16:00 AM

Thanks Dee Dub. I'm always happy to sink thoughtlessly away. That's for sure

Connie Marcum Wong

Date: 5/4/2017 7:42:00 AM

Twilight was made for poets Phillip and this poem sounds inspired. Beautiful! 7 ; )

Phillip Garcia
Date: 5/6/2017 12:18:00 AM

I think twilight was made by poets. Otherwise, it'd just be a lousy reverse sunrise and there's nothing fun about that :)

Chris Green

Date: 5/3/2017 2:00:00 PM

This was beautiful Phillip. The imagery in this was as mesmerizing as it was poetic.

Phillip Garcia
Date: 5/3/2017 2:25:00 PM

Thank you, Chris. It's always a good thing when a poem has something poetic about it, I've heard :)