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AprilDawn Jul 2017
I like about
July
are multitudes of pink mimosa trees
on countless country
roads
with orange day lilies
running rampantly
along stranger’s driveways
air thick from
smoky spent fireworks
trigger thoughts
of sad
goodbyes
said way too soon
Too many  anniversaries of  loss   intersect in July for me .
AprilDawn Jul 2017
ever so
gently
don’t want to bruise
sweet giving
flesh
suggestive satisfaction
hangs between
my patience
and fingertips
that tactful test
on well ripened
curves
Peach time ! Blink  and you'll miss the window between hard as a rock and  ripe for devouring !
AprilDawn Jul 2017
space
just plain
gone
where you once
flaunted  your  beauty
is now mere grass
to be mowed
it’s been 2 long summers
since I last raced
to snap pictures  
before storm gusts
would shred
your  glory
year after year
they showed up
to  dress up this boring
little back dirt road  
those golden sunflowers
against a deep blue
Kentucky sky
haloed by tufts
of white pillowy clouds
inspired me
to prose and praise
I am no gardener
and cannot raise you
from the dead
summer solstice
now marks the day
I  start sadly gazing
through the space
you use to
occupy
and let out
  a weighted sigh
Our lovely older neighbor lady use to keep  sunflowers  near the end of their driveway  , and for years  my eyes feasted on them  ever y summer. A few summers back  she got  too  elderly to tend them and her son  mowed them over. That space got the just right amount of sunlight   , and   so that bounty of  flowers can  not be replicated anywhere else in the neighborhood.
AprilDawn Jun 2017
the ice coffee
I snuck in
late  this afternoon
red wine
I drank
with a robust
spaghetti sauce
not until
it was time to sleep
my eyes regretted
not being able to close
mind riddled and running wild
with unlaid plans
fanciful schemes
memories mostly hidden
from daylight
revelations leap
out from the dark
shadows
with every toss and turn
grudges
lain bare
with my uncovered legs
my only hope of absolution
remains in the desperate hope
to exhaustedly
dissolve  into dreamscapes
where regrets are simply keys
to opening
doorways
to subconscious delusions
that  make
some sort of sense
there
because
you tell them to
I keep forgetting  I can't do  coffee  after 5:30 pm or  red wine past 9 pm...
AprilDawn Jun 2017
Never ever
has
anything
been so beyond
my reach
I know less now
than I did
15 years ago
back when this
unspeakable
horror
         happened
still grasping
for reasons
that elude even the
fiber
of an understanding
who ,what and why
reverberates through me
on repeat
    while sorting
dusty piles of pictures
                 from a life
that seems like a foreign film
a naïve version of myself
cameo moments
captured within
assorted snaps
your smile
profiled
many times  over
these are the  memories
I try to press into my
deepest mind
instead of  the weight
of ashes
that buckled my knees
in  a sleek
Cherry wood  
     box
I gave
to your brothers
to keep
July 2002 I lost  my  husband of nearly 20 years  and the father of my daughter to ******. Unsolved mystery it remains ,  and these  thoughts creep out from the corners of my everyday life and haunt me  regularly.
AprilDawn May 2017
announced itself
all around a tiny
quaint white
birdhouse
nestled inside
  the lanky lilac shrub
that towered above the roof  
of our ranch style
rental home
with a  profusion of light purple buds
their heady fragrance
no perfume could really capture
these technicolor memories
of the two New England
Springs spent exploring
on  walks along the woods
while chattering squirrels scampered
on branches
arcing over our heads
fingers crossed
we’d missed the bears  
that ransacked
our birdseed feeder
earlier that morning
as our blind hound
delicately  sniffed
our neighbor’s
blooms
AprilDawn Feb 2017
Not winter
Not spring
just a crazy weather thing
Daffodils  already playing
show and tell
early pollen
makes my eyes swell
riddles still a plenty
will next month
bring
some sneaky snow
in its wake
seems only the heavens
know
for goodness sake
Weird weather  winter  this  year
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