Friday, May 10, 2013

Poem #39

Early Summer, from Bed

What matters now is
The wars of summer being waged 
Around the neighborhood,
Punctuated by high, thin screams,
Guerrilla troops armed with plastic
Guns and sabers, ducking in and out of bushes,
Answering to the imperious commands issued
By an ever-evolving platoon of leaders.

What matters now is
The barking of that same, damn dog--
You know the one...little, yellow--
Against the background of 
Evening's baroque birdsong,
Accompanying the alto voices of
Mothers who, dinner cooked 
And families fed, trade stories 
In work-wearied tones
While their children run wild.

What matters now is
The pungent smoke from the neighbor's 
Impromptu barbecue pinching my nose;
The gentle hum of my box fan,
Working hard these days;
The glowing azure of 
Twilight drawing close;
The bitter, plummy taste of
Dark chocolate on my tongue;
And the sweet, soft kindness 
of your kiss lingering 
Momentarily, on my lips.

[With thanks to Pat Schneider for the inspiring exercise...]
(c) 2013, by Hannah Six


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