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Sun Poem

Sun Poem by Michael R. Burch I have suffused myself in poetry as a lizard basks, soaking up sun, scales nakedly glinting; its glorious light he understands—when it comes, it comes. A flood of light leaches down to his bones, his feral eye blinks—bold, curious, bright. Now night and soon winter lie brooding, damp, chilling; here shadows foretell the great darkness ahead. Yet he stretches in rapture, his hot blood thrilling, simple yet fierce on his hard stone bed, his tongue flicking rhythms, the sun—throbbing, spilling. Mingled Air by Michael R. Burch for Beth Ephemeral as breath, still words consume the substance of our hearts; the very air that fuels us is subsumed; sometimes the hair that veils your eyes is lifted and the room seems hackles-raised: a spring all tension wound upon a word. At night I feel the care evaporate—a vapor everywhere more enervate than sighs: a mournful sound grown blissful. In the silences between I hear your heart, forget to breathe, and glow somehow. And though the words subside, we know the hearth light and the comfort embers gleam upon our dreaming consciousness. We share so much so common: sighs, breath, mingled air. Adrift by Michael R. Burch I helplessly loved you although I was lost in the veils of your eyes, grown blind to the cost of my ignorant folly —your unreadable rune— as leashed tides obey an indecipherable moon. Moon Poem by Michael R. Burch after Linda Gregg I climb the mountain to inquire of the moon ... the advantages of loftiness, absence, distance. Is it true that it feels no pain, or will she contradict me? Originally published by Borderless Journal (Singapore) The apparent contradiction of it/she is intentional, since the speaker doesn’t know if the moon is an inanimate object or can feel pain. Drippings by Michael R. Burch I have no words for winter’s pale splendors awash in gray twilight, nor these slow-dripping eaves renewing their tinkling songs. Life’s like the failing resistance of autumn to winter and plays its low accompaniment, slipping slowly away ... .. . Keywords/Tags: sun, moon, poem, poetry, winter, spring, snow, frost, rose, sun, eyes, sight, seeing, understanding, wisdom, sun, poems, poets, sunshine, sunset, summer, lizard, scales, rhythm, rhythms, sea, adrift, tides, moon

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Date: 9/21/2022 7:50:00 AM
I've been reading some of the old masters - Samuel Coleridge Taylor, William Wordsworth, Shakespeare. Can be a warm, sun-drenched bask indeed!
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Michael Burch
Date: 9/21/2022 3:33:00 PM
Yes, a nice bask indeed. You might like my translations of some of the really old English poems like "How Long the Night" and "Wulf and Eadwacer."

Book: Reflection on the Important Things