Tuesday, July 9, 2013
The hill is grass prickle soft
and the sky in sunset layers
surprises me every time
always there and never the same.
I glance away
and that indescribable I must capture this moment
So I bargain
What if I lie really still?
To not miss this moment, I'll even hold my breath!
But it's gone.
The hill is harder than I thought
and my shirt shiver clings damp to my back
as I walk home and exhale next time
I promise not to blink.
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Huddle shuffle close
how skin turns goldencrisp
and you stay out late just to feel
your shoulder cool
against your cheek. I think we did that.
Afraid of ambersinged souls, we sat until sunset passed
and our outsides no longer exceeded core temperature
Side by side until on cool shoulders
and your top lip
only freckles remembered.