Poem: The Dial in New Harmony

Standard

Summer always forgot to turn her air conditioner on,
The weight of hot breaths on our backs.
Stop, it’s here, you said,
Pointing to the sun dial.
That compass of time passing, just sitting there
Like a neighbor two houses down from the art gallery.
We took pictures with this altar de la sol,
And, my love, you never gleamed brighter.

You’d belong in the garden, you said.
Only they were red and white petunias
Not the lilies we’re both fond of.
I would never blossom when the leaves fell, your favorite time.
But my blue you said with birdsong stuck in your hair,
Sunbeams hanging about my neck, but my blue
I would marry you for your poetry, not just your beauty.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s