Poetry |

“Summer, So Full”

Summer, So Full

 

 

Not the noble storm

of sunlight,

            but the last doe-eyed

days, the thing in itself,

 

            falcons coasting

on updrafts,

            bougainvillea in bloom

and the dark high-res

            glimmering indigo.

 

In this flash of indecision

            the lips reach

for the warmed body

and the neck turns

toward shadow.

 

            The rattling in the leaves

as your dress

            settles in your lap —

and heavenly, precious

            light breathes between

the slatted trees,

            all eyes gaze upward

addressing the clouds

            and their cloudwork,

a music without sound

            drifts us into waking dreams —

a magnetism

            stirring the head

and in the feet,

            sorrow, fiction

 

just days before the fall,

before the swollen garden

            flickers out,

before the moon rises

 

clear out of your skull.

Contributor
Marc Vincenz

Marc Vincenz‘ most recent books are the poetry collection There Might Be a Moon or a Dog (Life Before Man/Gazebo Books, Australia) and a novella, Three Taos of Tao (Spuyten Duyvil Press, 2023). He is publisher and editor of MadHat Press and publisher of New American Writing. He lives on a farm in rural Western Massachusetts with his wife, Miriam, and their Australian Cobberdog, Emily Dickinson.

Posted in Poetry

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.