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David Temple Poem
on the other side of a twenty-seven mile wide mountain range
is a place to go where no cars and cycles buzz behind me
where the dusk heated sun does not touch my back
and polluted air does not burn my eyes
where the Pacific Ocean whooshes in my ears…
i can get there by dawn and sit on the beach
smell the salty air as the sun rises from mighty waves
stroll in water shoes across sharp pebbles
dash into a cool frothy force crashing upon me
there, over this mountainous Taiwan backbone
i could stay drenched in plum wine all day
women amused with my Mandarin mouth
women amusing me with their English tongues
i could do this
with karaoke nights singing to my fancy
but would i forget my wife at home
looking like something is wrong
i look to the peaks of green mountains
follow their curves through lush valleys
twenty-seven miles of tiny winding roads
upward, over, around, and down to the shoreline
with indistinguishable places to rest
and weeks if i wish to stay
with an iPod of twenty-five thousand songs
in a cold car with cool sound system
it could be years
if i do not miss home
up and around bends with streams and waterfalls
adventuresome companions and sweethearts
and my favorite noodles
Copyright © David Temple | Year Posted 2018
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Details |
David Temple Poem
sitting by the late afternoon rippling lake
dividing shade from sunlight
dividing the day from the night
something that feels quite right
unlike a fisherman catching a fish
it will come jumping out into my lap
with no reel, rod, or bait
i will be a lucky winner, like in craps
from a replica of life, made it out alive
to drift with the wakes towards the dam
but a healthy ride and a breath of fresh air
staying fit to reach the other shore again
the distant thunder excites me
like a gift from nature darkened skies
outrun the first approaching drops
and hide the storm within my eyes
cooled front storm breeze retorts
for love it would give an errant sigh
the calm that rushes over me
when my mind stops wondering why
sit and be drenched; here it comes
or ride home soaked, be forewarned
till mirages of a sheltered party welcoming
gives lightening to my spirits strong
who goes fishing on the lake in the rain?
finds another exit from the strange
why he parted from the safety zone
for the great, wide-open range
ah, here's a patch of blue and sun right through
sky lightens, rain tapers to drizzle
in giving up pretending who i am
getting skunk butt as route 19 sizzles.
Copyright © David Temple | Year Posted 2022
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