Summertime Sinner

 As the leaves submit
their souls to the sun,
brilliance fading floating
into never places
I watch the clouds smile
preparing to bring
the ice cone machine.

Mama used to say that
when the snow fell,
God was making sculptures.
I always thought he
was dumping crumpled
scriptures
on my head
because I'd been
a summertime sinner.

This winter challenges me
brings me deadlines
and down time,
opportunities to lay
by heaters in sweaters
typing furiously
into the night covered
in the white essence
of snowy breath.

Topped off the ending
of this passing solstice
with a nice weekend trip
to a city in the south,
danced till the dawn came out,
kissed a sweat,
flirted with a girl,
watched the moon unfurl
full in her glory I surrendered
and said goodbye to September
in fashion.

My evergreens are dripping drops
of rain on the rooftops,
misty fog emerges in mornings
where I can't hear the cock crowing,
he's cowering with the chickens
to see if the sun can find her way
out today and more than likely
we'll dance in the muddy,
sidewalks in our plastics,
dancing fellows with
twirling umbrellas.

I angst into the Enchanted
where I escape in afternoons,
to hide inside the leaves,
hanging over me, surrounded
by Gaia's graceful arms.
 
When I kneel before
a tree, feel her energy
watch the light glisten
off her green veins,
I am contained inside
this moment, as if a
lover has touched my mouth.

and so my sunny days
take their own vacation,
and I am left reminiscing
on where She might be,
some beach in Italy
where they get to share
the Sun that kissed my hair,
and was only mine
for a summertime.

(copyright @ DBV Publishing 2010)