When the last of the fireworksfizzles into grey-green nightunder a lonely streetlight,mosquitos retire, drunk,the air’s as dense as local honeyand sweet, I’ll retire in your armsBecause upon waking, we’ll missthis thickness portending loss,the dozen verses sung in darknesssimply for sake of time, and waitout pacing hours until the chanceagain arrives to imbibe on shadows
Late entry for Play It Again in the Imaginary Garden
Lovely poem, and filled with so much depth and longing. Greetings!
ReplyDeleteDelicious imagery and phraseology. Love "the dozen verses sung in darkness / simply for sake of time".
ReplyDeleteMarian--this felt to me very much of a July 4th poem, from the thick grey-green and sweet air, to the dozen verses sung in darkness. It is also a 4th of July poem for this time, which is certainly one of pacing hours and waiting. I don't know if that's exactly what you meant, but that kind of loss and sadness and determination to be lost in the moment (and even in some kind of honied air) felt very real and understandable and current to me. But maybe I'm projecting some of my own angst--a very cool poem. Wonderful for now at any rate, rather you meant that or not. I saw a bald eagle flying so very close today in the country where I live--I was hoping it was a sign. Take care, and thanks again for your very kind words. It is easy to get discouraged; I hope you don't. All best. k.
ReplyDeleteI loved it a lot, but even more when I read Karin's comment... at first I thought of New Years eve, but those mosquitoes would be cold then....
ReplyDeleteWe do love an Aubade, don't we? And I covet every line, the bitter-sweet tang of spent fireworks against the backdrop of lasting love. So sigh-worthy.
ReplyDeleteI can only echo previous remarks. Such an enjoyable read.
ReplyDeleteSuper sweet Marian.
ReplyDeleteAubade = "this thickness portending loss" = perfection. Such a small window or vantage and without peer.
ReplyDeleteGorgeous, Marian. It could be 4th July, 5th November or New Year's Eve. You've captured the feeling, especially in the lines:
ReplyDelete'Because upon waking, we’ll miss
this thickness portending loss'.
My goodness this is absolutely stunning, Marian!❤️ "Because upon waking, we’ll miss this thickness portending loss, the dozen verses sung in darkness simply for sake of time".. *swooooon*❤️
ReplyDeletedeliciously dark
ReplyDeleteBeautiful, my friend.
ReplyDeleteSplendidly woven moment. There was a crescendo and then we move on.
ReplyDeleteHow satisfying it was the read this beautiful and timely poem. The expressions you used were quite intoxicating so I felt like those mosquitoes!
ReplyDeleteHeartfelt, but never even close to cloying. Fine, fine stuff.
ReplyDeleteI feel the weight of this. Heavy and sweet.
ReplyDeleteIt was beautiful and sad, so many of our moments slip and disappear before we can truly savour them.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy every sandwich-Warren Zevon
ReplyDeleteI've been there - as we all have - wherein lies the genius of this poem.
ReplyDelete