... 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.

Advertisements
Standard
... 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.

Standard
... 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.

Standard
... Applachia ..., ... beauty ..., ... country ..., ... life ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ...

Slow evening dim

i burnt myself in the fire
that we had built just to watch
its billows hang in the empty
January air. crisp and clear,
from the Northern Plains,
it tumbles over the trees
of our genteel little hollow.
sounds of Saturday vibrate
against distant wood,
where love and smoke mingle
above and in the midst
of us.

Standard
... Applachia ..., ... Autumn ..., ... beauty ..., ... L.F. ..., ... life ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ...

Quandering

love hurts
if you let it

stripping away
the essence of I

becoming the
reality of we

let the cleansing come
i am weary of the old me
and my wandering is the
quandering that finds no
absolution without you

as sure as the steady,
spinning sun,
let this love hurt

Standard
... Applachia ..., ... Autumn ..., ... beauty ..., ... experimental ..., ... girl ..., ... heartsick ..., ... LF ..., ... love ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ..., ... the South ...

sweetpea

she is the
epitome of me

&
i would want
for nothing
but the glance
she gives
in the pulling
away of a kiss

lost in the
mist of dizzy
head swilrlings

at golden sunrise
she is mine
in orbit

&
i take
umbrage with
no living thing
ever again

she is
the better
of me

Standard