|Lake Michigan in February|
Shot with IPhone 6Plus
Crepe is draped
across the canopy
of the bedposts as
I lie in repose.
Heavy skirts sweep
the wooden floors
picking up dust-
I lock my hair
in an ornament,
yours too fine
to scissor cut.
Jet courses through
of life lived before
Warm soil still,
slips in next
to Earth’s worms
to push out
of ivory bulb
and tissuey skin
to force a bloom
the kitchen sink,
still hanging North,
‘I can’t wait
to see the
tulips, next Spring.’
The concrete sizzled sunshot
sand littered its path blown from the beach
in waved ripples leading to the lake-
peeling off layers of hoodie and Jordan’s,
the cracked heel
of her sockless foot.
The memo shut off water-
city school kids drown
in pools or beaches, in puddles collected
on the streets of embattled gutters
or an open fire hydrant.
she followed conspirators to a fountain
built in the renovation of the old beach house
on the south side usually left out.
Let me do this away from the corner on the block -
bullets popping me to get someone else -
I need to cool off from this heat - real talk.
Sliding sideways through the circled rifles of water,
she giggled joyously in folly
fearlessly. her foot on a fountain,
to the delightful screams of others-
it shot her.
All we had
at the bar,
a hat on;
But his skin,
like snow sans
quietly on evening
April’s cruel joke
on crocus and daffodil
under baby's blanket;
absorbs icy dew
for it is spring.
And I fell in love all over again
Listenin’ to a rock n‘ roll station;
I met my own boy from Indiana who thought-
ain’t that America, we’re something to see baby.
Smart as a whip and head full of dreams,
I blushed, "Boy, you're gonna be president."
I’d slide next to him on the worn leather seat
when he’d pick me up in his Cadillac Brougham,
I would swim in the blue of his eyes as
he whispered in my ear pulling me closer,
"Hey darling, I can remember that you could stop a clock."
And there’s winners, and there’s losers
and I’ve lost him to all these years
But they ain't no big deal ‘cause I am still
Listenin’ to a rock n‘ roll station
and I can hear his tender promiseLittle pink houses, babe, for you and me.