I watched the paper
soak up the ink
as it blotched
breast strokes
across the page...
suddenly,
street bound
jazz hounds
legs,
pinioned
to pavement,
hand signals
of July scroll by,
a memory strolls
in reverse as a
name scrawled contra
across wheat covered
hills...returned to me
chaotic,
lovely.
A single day
took it's light
from the crayon
colored buildings
laughter ran out
from a beautiful city
where the seagulls
brushed it's wings
against my cheek
like lovers once
embraced
arm in arm,
long before
infancy.
A memory plucked
from the eye of
golden Roses
littering the street
in irradiant petals
like pieces
of shattered
poetry
in the blood
of a waxing
poet.
Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
I watched the paper
soak up the ink
as it blotched
breast strokes
across the page...
suddenly,
street bound
jazz hounds
legs,
pinioned
to pavement,
hand signals
of July scroll by,
a memory strolls
in reverse as a
name scrawled contra
across wheat covered
hills...returned to me
chaotic,
lovely.
A single day
took it's light
from the crayon
colored buildings
laughter ran out
from a beautiful city
where the seagulls
brushed it's wings
against my cheek
like lovers once
embraced
arm in arm,
long before
infancy.
A memory plucked
from the eye of
golden Roses
littering the street
in irradiant petals
like pieces
of shattered
poetry
in the blood
of a waxing
poet.
