Sarsparilla Dreaming
By Silver Spun Sand
Wed, 20 Jan 2016
- 1170 reads
4 comments
Verdigris – the fall of light
between the trees. In a clearing we lay –
looking out to blue; small patches of sky
and slow clouds
sipping sarsaparilla through a straw
slipping off our shoes and socks
dipping our feet into the warm
river runoff...
the ether obese with bird-song and buds –
bedazzling twigs. A suddenness – a confetti
of swallows, on an afternoon – made of
spring breezes, and narcissus;
the air – ditzy with dogwood blossom –
waif-white crosses, hid deep within
a thicket’s darkling scrim.
There we found us a place we called
The Kingdom of Us and your shirt smelled
of pinewood and petrol and Woodbines –
you smiled that gappy smile of yours,
said, Race you to the top!
A copper beech – red as a beet
as tall as the sky. You made it look easy,
but I stood – feet firm on the ground,
till you taught me to fly.
Wanted to preserve your wave goodbye
in brine. Keep it in a jar beside my bed;
if I could have done I would have...
a million times.
A little blue jar to remind me,
forever, of that more than extraordinary day,
with its less than ordinary lies.
- Log in to post comments
Comments
1 User voted this as great feedback
Such satisfying half and full
Such satisfying half and full rhyme here. A stunning paradise and then the close so unsettling with its admission of his untruths. Unusual words give it more Tropicana. Apologies for the brand name, could have said the man from Del Monte. Assuming a musky scented man but could be wrong. At home, we are all allowed to jar anything. Funny things said, feelings, worms, dogs paws, notes. Jarring feelings was a childhood obsession of mine.
- Log in to post comments
Gorgeous colours, wakes the
Permalink Submitted by Philip Sidney on
Gorgeous colours, wakes the senses.
- Log in to post comments