Saturday, November 8, 2014

November 2014 Poem-A-Day Chapbook Challenge: Day 8

The sun trapped in my half-sealed eyelids, I
Could not peek if I tried – the blindfold’s tight,
No need to, though – I can identify
You anytime, old friend, both day and night.

No matter where I go I’d recognize
The bitter-sweet of clover on the tongue,
The cool caress of wind, I don’t need eyes
To see you as you were, when we were young.

I hear the stillness of the hot high-noon,
And smell the earth stirred by the garden rake,
I feel the rain with all my cells, and soon
I know you, friend, I do, make no mistake.

You are my dream, my childhood, my July,
I carry with me, though I’ve left, you stay
Forever in that place where you and I –
That magic place –
where blind-man’s-buff we play.

Live for the Love of it,
Sasha A. Palmer (a.k.a. "Happy")

prompted by Poetic Asides

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