sapping all of my fresh
the film of sweat lingers
on the back of my neck
Another summer vacation dawns. I begin the first evening of it in solitude. Frank plays for his high school’s graduation, which he, himself, will partake into years. Mira attends a Chi Gong class.
I savor the drone of evening traffic, the last singsong calls of rival birds, the hum of neighbors’ air conditioners. I imbibe the varying verdant shades of the backyard: Maple, pine, crabgrass. They all vie to become the flavor my eyes remember.
” I was oppressed by the velvety emptiness of the word and swathes of soft grass. “Laurie Lee
But Something is here. Something pulses against my own determination to ignore it. A presence insists on acknowledgement, communion, being experienced. It exhudes from the verdancy and the cacaphonies occuring within this moment. And yet, I can barely hear it’s soft murmering. It is gentle, and patience. It can wait.
Do I dare open myself up? With what story, what song, will I then incarnate this conjoining? Can I live with never being the same thereafter?
to expend transcending
my own limits
I listen for that murmer
within the wind
for dVerse Poets’ Tuesday Poetics: : Literary Alchemy with Laurie Lee (pubtended by Laura Bloomsbury). The pub is still open! Come join us!