Sleepy Sunday, a silent breeze triggers nostalgia
Of summer decades ago:
Radio drifting along,
Filtering through marshmallow humidity.
Neon lawn prickly on pudgy legs,
Water (the flavor of tart chlorine and relaxation)—
A mirror to heaven.
Refuge from the evils and sour smell
Of earth outside my perfect puddle.
Flapping and swatting at air,
Floating innocently, aquatic penitence for wrongs
I wouldn’t commit for years.
Iced tea—a lamp in the day—lingers nearby
For the grown woman watching her flowers explode color and pollen
As bees lose their minds to sweet sugar.
She smiled, guarding me—
With help from the blue, yellow, green—
From what I might see someday.
I didn’t know anything.
I simply refused to go inside until the stars
Switched on, and I shook with reluctant shivers,
Wrinkled as if age had taken me by surprise.
But it had not. Everything lay ahead that day,
Summer stretched on like a desert road,
Growing big a faint, unlikely possibility.
© by Chris Danzig.
Used with the author’s permission.
|Purchase a framed print of this poem.
Christopher Danzig grew up with dreams of writing the Great American Novel and becoming the next Ernest Hemingway, W.H. Auden, or Bob Dylan. He hasn't quite given up. Currently a freelance writer, Chris has written about everything from Christian heavy metal to legendary adventurers to life with Tourette Syndrome. After a six-year stint in Chicago, he now lives in Oakland, Calif.
Chris, my senses are just so awakened after reading this, a fine poem:)) Maire
Posted 06/28/2011 05:57 PM
"guarding me from what I might
see someday" lovely remembrance
Posted 06/26/2011 07:04 AM
Nostalgia and a lot of mystery as well. You evoke something not quite tangible but very satisfying. Nicely done!
Posted 06/26/2011 06:56 AM