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a low flying crow
eyed pumpkin seeds lying
in Helen's backyard
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
A True Story
by Michael R. Burch

for Jeremy Michael Burch

Jeremy hit the ball today
when he and I went out to play.
He hit it, oh, so far away,
a neighbor had to throw it back!

Jeremy hit the ball so hard
it flew into the neighbor’s yard
and caught the other kids off-guard;
they thought it was an air attack!

Jeremy hit the ball again,
above the sun, beyond the wind;
as we watched it soar and slowly spin ...
we gave high-fives for his awesome smack!

Keywords/Tags: baseball, hitting, backyard, child, children, childhood, kids, fence, neighbor, yard, play, air, home run, homer, high-fives
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Whatever winds encountered soon resolved
to swirling fragments, till chaotic heaps
of leaves lay pulsing by the backyard wall.
In lieu of rakes, our fingers sorted each
dry leaf into its place and built a high,
soft bastion against earth’s gravitron—
a patchwork quilt, a trampoline, a bright
impediment to fling ourselves upon.

And nothing in our laughter as we fell
into those leaves was like the autumn’s cry
of also falling. Nothing meant to die
could be so bright as we, so colorful—
clad in our plaids, oblivious to pain
we’d feel today, should we leaf-fall again.

Published by The Raintown Review, Deronda Review, Jewish Letter (translated into Russian by Vera Zubarev), The Chimaera, Freshet, Contemporary Sonnet, Stremez (translated into Macedonian by Marija Girevska), The Eclectic Muse, Better Than Starbucks, Glass Facets of Poetry, Victorian Violet Press

Keywords/Tags: Childhood, autumn, wind, winds, fall, falling, leaves, backyard, heaps, piles, rakes, bastion, gravitron, patchwork, quilt, trampoline, laughter, cry, bright, colorful, plaid, plaids, pain, memory, recollection, remembrance, die, dying, death
TS Ray Oct 2019
Sing for me, oh wind chime!

Winds are blowing from north to south,
Skies are darkening from up above,
Rains are showering over a white robe, and
the globe is dancing with a mild glow.

So sing for me, oh wind chime!

Blue jays are pecking at an oak tree,
Spinning around squirrels who are as carefree,
Unaware of a herd of deer roaming free,
their intelligence only bettered by their calling soiree.

So sing for me, oh wind chime!

Even as the prairie of a backyard is so beautiful,
when winds are so peaceful,
flowing the dandelions along plentiful,
depositing themselves on young ones a handful.

So sing for me, oh wind chime!
Jillian Jesser Oct 2018
and when your babies were born
you named them for the stars
but the backyard was all they ever saw
when your mother got the call
the world was obsessed
but when we change the channel
you'll still feel him inside
you'll still feel him
Matthew Sutton Aug 2018
A reflection - maybe that is what I see
A replication - maybe that is what I am trying to be

        and as I sit on this back-deck  
        my left foot dangles over the left railing

        and in this midnight the street-light beams with confidence
        and
        as my eyes adjust
        The shadow grows
        Mine or your’s? - I do not know.

A miniature volcano decays between my fingertips
A moment of false peace
    -    a vapor
        come & gone
        a memory shrouded in nicotine
        lying within a bottomless ashtray  
        This is the back-yard landscape    -
(1/1)
Megan May 2018
I close my eyes
So tight that it hurts,
so tight that I'm crying

But I'll keep them shut
Until at least I can remember
until at least I can understand

When you were the one
who spoke to me
who spoke to me about wanting this small backyard

I didn't want the cherry tomatoes
so red
so sweet

Next to the chilli peppers
so pungent
so spicy

But you planted them there anyway
In this small backyard
In this hole in my heart

And the cherry tomatoes died
overbearing chillis
overbearing on me

In this small backyard
where you planted seeds
Where you planted love in my heart

I don't know what it was
But the way it is now
but the way they taste now

I like the backyard
with the hole in the ground
with the hole in my heart

Overbearing chillis
you replaced cherry tomatoes
you replaced the sweetness and the ****
Poem dumping again don't mind me ! I don't really go through my poems before I dump them lol but here it be also ****** because dumps lol get it
zb Apr 2018
I used to wonder.
About nothing, really.
My head was full of mud and wild strawberries,
Eaten young because children are impatient
And worries are small.

From the sunrise to the sunset,
We would play.
We would climb weak, young trees
And cling uncomfortably, because we
Were not as small
As we used to be.

We would swing and
Swing and
Swing and
Swing
Until we outgrew that, also.
Until the yellow plastic that once allowed us to fly
Couldn't hold lanky limbs
And tangled hair.

One by one,
The things that defined our childhood
Faded away, left behind in old houses
Or forgotten to a stream of consciousness
That made minutes to days
And weeks to seconds.

So many absent, mundane moments
I remember.
So many
I have forgotten.
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