... Applachia ..., ... Autumn ..., ... beauty ..., ... country ..., ... experimental ..., ... life ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ...

Firstfire

finespun blue Dawn skies
cold and clear acquiesced to
heavy November gray

she surrendered her expanse
without incident, and drew her
cerulean coattails into the

carriage of night.
it was freezing in that
morning stillness. our first

freeze since Winter.
i gathered some small
logs, chopped and discarded

last Spring – surely due to
some sudden warm snap –
and built a fire in

my wood stove.

i sat here intending to
write a poem, instead all I
wrote was this:

peace is silence.

and put my pen down,
musing at the
warm crackle.

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... Applachia ..., ... Autumn ..., ... beauty ..., ... country ..., ... girl ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ...

colorland

hues are shifting daily now
pink is orange
blue is deeper
reds are blood
greens are gone until Spring

she is in my sights at daybreak
evening she is there
crowding empty spaces
morning she returns
dancing in steady rising fog

i could watch her for hours
sleeping, standing, being,
or doing nothing at all
i savor the flavor
of the one bathed in beauty

sun rises regardless
and her color never changes
always blonde, always.

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... Applachia ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ...

she talks of love

life is ebbing
and with it comes
clarity

women have spoken
to me of love
for half a lifetime

i have mused it
and studied its
corners and edges

analyzed its
emotions and
measured what boundaries
i could find

but it was not
until
she spoke of love

that i felt
the blood burn

when love
and body
and lips
collide

she talks of love
like its her
soulmate
and it is,
love was
made for lovers,
it is hers
and she is mine.

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... Applachia ..., ... beauty ..., ... experimental ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ..., ... the South ...

A Dream Moment Over Coffee As You Were Reading Across The Room

it is a great life we live-
the weathering of a man
the patina of woman
it is a great life we love-

this is the shimmering,
the seasoning of days,
spices from stardust which
salted this fertile earth-

who knew a planet was
filled with savor?
who knew love would
spin from nothing to everything?
universes in a glance
of Irish green-

the Whirlwind has found
her place to nest in my head-
twirling is something
invoked with a kiss.

it is a great life we live
you and i,
spinning, tumbling, billowing then
crashing against the stone
into cool salty spray
thinning, becoming, blue, gone.

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... Applachia ..., ... beauty ..., ... country ..., ... experimental ..., ... home ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... Spring ..., ... the South ..., ... time ...

A Late Winter Forest Burn

when Winter dry heaves
under black, crystal skies,
with a choke and stutter
and solemnly dies

the birds of the air,
all return to their nests
to brood and to court
with new songs in their breasts

the fox, the hare, and fawn
on bitter mornings cry
and whisper in cloudy breaths,
stretched noses to the sky

and i recline here
in my warm and cozy cave
while life erupts outside,
life inside misbehaves.

when the woods all dance
with a boisterous sound,
we light her cindered petticoat
and burn the jejune ground.

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... addiction ..., ... Applachia ..., ... beauty ..., ... country ..., ... girl ..., ... kiss ..., ... love ..., ... ocean ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... the South ...

resplendence

can you recall the last time
you saw sunlight pierce
the ocean’s blurry skin
and illuminate treasure
sunk beneath?
can you recall the clarity in
your lover’s eyes when
she last exhaled against the
soft of your neck?

they are resplendent,
one and the same.

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... addiction ..., ... Applachia ..., ... beauty ..., ... country ..., ... girl ..., ... kiss ..., ... L.F. ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... pain ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ..., ... Spring ..., ... summer ..., ... summer solstice ..., ... the South ..., ... the sun ...

never looked back

i found her
on the blackest night,
she was a soft
voice whispered ‘neath
the door.

i saw her
in sweet Georgia sunshine,
she was the Spring
wind tangled in
my hair.

i felt her
once
and never looked back.

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