Thursday, August 21, 2014

June and December

There can be steely one-shade days
That leak through scarf, coat, and sweater
Days that pale and pull you apart, make bones
Ache, bitter

If there are sometimes sherbet skies
That melt down to star-sprinkled night
Nights that purr and sweep against you, at once
Black, bright

There can be too-hot noons
That hang on impossibly long, and bite
If there are perfect more-than-pecks, under wintry trees in
White lights