The Poetry Marathon

the joy of unseen things
in youth
is the possibility
this could be IT, could be
EXACTLY
what you need
that precious thing you’ve
wished for,
hoped for,
prayed, begged, cried for…
it. could. be.

the joy of unseen things
in the years beyond youth
is that they are few,
and far between

A steady stream
of golden light
Splashes across the floor
Catching on the tiny chain
around her ankle
As she crosses the room
Her feet disturb the dust
Raising tiny impotent clouds

I would know you in darkness
despite altered dimensions
& across time and space

Whisper my name
& receive my ready reply
know that I am yours

Always

Quiet feet pad through tall grass
Claws, teeth, tails
Ears, eyes, nose on alert
A breeze ruffles the leaves
Fur, feathers, scales
Growl, squeak, howl
A branch snaps
A door slams
Lights, curtains, quiet.

Hot grease
Sizzling in cast iron skillet

Cold drinks
Settled in icy cooler

Fresh fish
Heads still on

Table set
Diners arrive dripping sunshine

Siren song of summer

Scuttling crab
Breaking waves
Cracked shells
Pink toenails
Cotton candy sunset

Calling bird
Gentle breeze
Sand dunes
Wind whipped grasses

Daydream of forever

Your face as familiar as my own

stares

across the table full of anger
& certainty

certain that you know

everything

certain that I can’t possibly

understand

my smile infuriates you

affirms, for you, my ignorance

but I do understand

in fact

both your certainty

&

your miscalculation

I remember

this righteous rage

This indestructible invincibility

of

Being 18…19…21…

I am not indifferent

I smile solidarity

This a different nature

not flowers, rainbows & gentle rain.

not fluffy rabbits, spry frogs and quick

jumping fish.

This is thorns, clouds and thunderstorms.

this is raccoons, alligators & piranha

this food chain is hunt or be hunted

eat or be eaten

like musical chairs, but no music

everyday a Russian roulette demanding

quick feet & quicker thinking.

Minutes…hours…days…

months….

years….

since your lips brushed mine

splitting open the night

since your hand slid over rounded hips,

eased open moist thighs

since your fingers reached for the center

of everything

splintering starlight…

splashing joy on my soul

So many things

to do

& see

maybe later.

Necessary new skills

to acquire

& refine

but not now.
Unexplored places

to go & people to meet

Tomorrow,

perhaps.