Everything I held
Sacred, in auburn summers,
There are noises here abounding
Though they exist barely noticed,
A closing of a drawer, a toilet
Humming from electric fans
Sends taut air spinning through
Summer, your tartan skirt
And tattooed hand snapping
My wishbones, like keys
To my uncontrolled blushes.
Tap water running,
A murmuration of sunbathers,
Suncream bottle lids opening,
Clasps on shoulders undone.
Garden parties swallowed.
Undeciphered patterns and vacations,
Wheatfields over the fence
With seventeen crop circles.
All these vibrations from life evolving,
All these times I’ve been revolving.
Yet there is no sound disguising
These memories are no longer
Moments, but instead a silence.
This oppressive heat.
All I long for is winter.
Snow, ice, frost, and sleet.
A spider bore weights
Of raindrops, flung from far heights.
So why love, can’t I?
A vacuum droned in the distance,
Unending summer pain,
You were bathing in sunlight,
I was the last to complain.
I wondered how we arrived here,
Eyes white as Siberian beaches;
Your painted toes playfully circled
My devotion, rhapsodies in peach.
You caught the sun in your shoulders,
A helping hand beneath straps;
I left my work in its folder,
Lawn mowers loud as thunder claps.
The water butt was empty,
Evaporated hearts there cried;
I sometimes feel your touch still,
Though many years have died.
Sunset walk, the coastal path,
Souls in time untethered,
See ascendant evening stars
And cup my face forever.
Driving homeward in the dark,
Glass by fire remembers;
Moments always leave their mark,
Waking alone by the embers.
Sweat down my neck’s cleft.
Midnight heatwaves, reservoirs;
Governments like this
Would drink air conditioning
To keep cool in heat.