Mellow Noon
days of benign stealth
lawns, gardens, orchards drink to my health
the road's been unkind
well it's gone, it's flowed on behind
let me recline in this boon
mellow noon
the bell might ring
spiteful and soon
days of serene sloth
cirri bind the sky in strips of clean cloth
and they barely support its weight of light
and i circle my core like a moth
tell me whose darned flitting hand
lit this little burner just below my head
that it moves higher up with each sandbag shed
and i never knew how far my land spread
now i long for something to make
now i ache for something to wield
earthbound and sunbaked
like a worker in the field
Copyright © Adriana Volceanov | Year Posted 2012
|