This is a poem I wrote several years ago in September. I thought maybe I should let it out, let it have some air before this September passes us by again.
On these summer nights
perrywinkle, pink
construction paper cut outs of clouds clutter the sky and
ohhh it feels right
like the right song
at the right time
cascading up with the heat towards a shadow box
of dark on light, lavender at first sight
or glance, a confusion of colors, a trance
where it's hot, sticky sweet in the sand
cicadas or a mesquite.
4 hours ago
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