Summer Innocence Poems

Do poets always walk in the rain?
This poet once did
When she was but a kid.
The bathwater of summer drops
Cascading from suburban chimney tops,
Puddles on pavement
Begging...

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The naked truth of hijacked leaves 
when tree reveals a mockingbird 
the wind with knives— the season’s thieves
applauds the loss of innocence 
soprano song his...

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As sensitive and as fragile 
As a mottled Butterflies tissue paper wings 
As gentle and tender as a teasing caressing arresting summer breeze
As transparent and...

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Under childish thumb
   picking dandelion teeth
stained in ochre crumb....

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Drink the poison from my blood, breathe the rot from my lungs.
Take all that has been decaying inside me and nurse it to health like...

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I first locked eyes on her in those salad days,
When my eyes was packed of ignorant bliss,
Some summer days felt like paradise
whilst others were stuffed...

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Earth.

When winter tires of being cold
Of icy fingers and chattering teeth
And spring can no longer sprout,
Green shoots and buds of promise
Summer will intervene with balmy-
Days,...

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children chalk sidewalk bricks
in fresh colors of bravado, pinks, blues, reds
rhythmic brushing
mystic threads merging, 
handled meticulously
 
child pedigree to erase the bland
on splashed bricks, laced...

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Don’t you remember? That one time
When we were young and adventurous 
We settled on shared breath between
Pine trees and our neighbors oak
Tugging on leaves like...

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2.

Once,
we picked
blackberries
under the shade
of bay trees fragrant with the kiss of sun,
not yet knowing the things that would break us;
just sweet fruit on
pregnant vines,
childish
joy.


3.

Once,
we picked
blackberries
under...

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Of all the senses, 
they say that smell 
is most closely tied 
to memory;
like Proust with 
his madeleines;
like blackberries 
in July,
in the park where 
my...

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A mass of emerald and ochre leaves,
sway upon the light summer breeze.

Suction of boots to big, wrenched from the muck,
grunting, banging, the metal bucket thunks.

The...

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Are you the butterfly
while in my dreams
I flit after Soshi?
—Basho, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

It's not at all anxious to bloom,
the plum tree at...

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Stretching forward, 
To test the ice,
I pull back, 
Scared the ice may fracture, 

Scared I might fall into, 
The cold dark, dreamless, 
Abyss below. 

Turning...

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Slodes new poem

Low slode-hand
I cant explain the fierce pain
Detached reattached  no change to spare
Wild and free and then god help me
Challenges inept
failures future reaps...

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