Esme Writes.


afternoon

we blow kisses easily
we once met the death of
dandelions with so much
earnest hope

wishes pour from
skeletons to join
pollen and dust that spike
afternoon breezes with magic

two lips two hands two feet
ten fingers ten toes
to tend to the tasks
doled out from a hat
on high

steps on a pavement that
fades in to sandy dirt and trash
the glint of broken bottles
the retch of used condoms
they all commit the same crimes
under a long wheezing streetlamp

we echo down alleys and
remember the sudden
easy sweetness
maple syrup notes poured out
from the man tucked into a stoop

Oh how we wished we could feel
the relish the sun
takes in bouncing off
a dented trombone

there are the pieces of conversations
that float from mouths
from teeth
from hearts
from stomachs
they drift on the same breath
that once lifted the wishing seeds
and join the sunlight
swirling around shoulders.

***

I’ve been struggling a bit this week- so easy to be distracted.

-e

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1 Comment so far
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A wonderful poem in every sense, an expression of true creativity in every line and verse.

Comment by Ken W. Simpson




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