Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Lightening bugs in June

Just rejected bits I like:



In August the shooting stars melt
across the sky
like so many Lightening bugs in June
in glass Ball jars.

I wondered
if you could feel
the shooting star heat
radiating outward
from the center,
beating against the glass walls.

The kitchen hums in freezer notes,
yellow pools of light
dangle from string.
Shadows of
kids playing in mud puddles.
We are late night bakers
on a prairie train bound for nowhere...

The scent of mint lives on in my brain
and you are dead in the ground
these many years.
Memories of nuns and Nazis,
Tanguaray gin and shooting stars in August
are all that remain.



Guess that kind of turned into another poem.  No ending though.  I just can't write those endings yet. I think beginnings and endings are the most difficult.

It is the end of my blogging every day but I just craved that contact with my imaginary world out there.






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