The suns in your eyes,
The stars in your teeth,
The flowers in my hair,
The petals on my cheek.
Your name in the sky,
My feet on the ground,
We’re a distance apart,
And you don’t hear the sound.
Burnt
Helios’s crumbled cake, crisped in the afternoon, had the inky black of a raven’s feathers, without the shine. The dessert was far from delicious, delectable, or desirable. To consider it seducing was enough to make one chortle.
Summer Poem
The long backyard of neatly-cut grass stretched out silently beneath the summer sun.
Far from the house, along the wood panel fence of fading red paint, stood a teen-aged maple tree.
Under the tree lay Sarah, her heart-shaped face shaded by the large leaves,
her bare feet exposing themselves to the hot summer sun.
Sun Life: A Poem
In the morning the warmth holds you close,
Softly whispering day-long promises of bright afternoons.
Ending with a dreamy dusk of oranges and pinks.
Baking
The black and white checkered floor of the kitchen was dusted with flour and smudged with bits of shortbread cookie dough that had flown from the hand-held mixer. The mixture got beneath Sophia’s bare left foot as she walked back-and-forth from the white marble counter to the kitchen table where her laptop displayed the recipe’s website. The sticky feeling from the creamed butter annoyed her.
Rain’s Power: Sicilian Quintain Poem
Gray clouds unknowingly lose Spring showers,
Falling like beads from a 60s curtain,
To feed thawing trees and infant flowers,
While searching birds hop through mud, for certain
Flooded worms will come to prove rain’s powers.
