Big Sky (Part 1)

Barefoot steps on dirt paths carried me deeper into the wooded area where I was greeted by hordes of people slithering between and grazing one another. Their sun-baked faces turned blue in the starlight, contrasting the drench of sepia and terra cotta that soaked their cotton, burlap and linen garb draped across their bodies. Sipping whiskey before gulping fresh air I stopped noticing where my steps were, and following the brightest lamppost made of moonlight I took my gaze toward the sky. I stopped in my tracks and settled, cross-legged, on the mossy mess of dirt and grass, to draw a line connecting all of the silver specks in the sky. Being under Big Sky meant the changing of gratitude swept in overwhelmingly with the changing of the seasons. The rows of trees were not just trees, but homes for little life, simple life, or companions to the dazed people weaving in and out of them looking for the path. People were not just people under Big Sky either, but friends and gentle faces to stop and hug and wish a happy harvest too. In the short distance beyond the clusters of tent cities was a bon fire whose flames stretched upward, so tall they could have reached over the heads of giants.

TDM

Lying on a Rock

I disengaged myself

And let every tender vertebra

Feel as pious as

The stone

They were held upon

And reaching overhead

In my supinated situation

I gasped

And let my hands fall to

The pate of the rock

Connecting them like

A halo

Twisting my fingers

Around my own locks

Tangling them between the crown

On my head

Where the coolness of

The stone had met my skull

Supporting it

 

TDM

Andrew

You were trying to be

a Kerouac

When you led me

from subway to streetcar

To marbled sidewalk

and thought you were adventure

Looking for old doorways on Bay

Where I knew there were none

And you were trying to make me

your Queen Anne’s Lace

So I would be

gentle with your secrets

sooth your eccentricities

and unravel your spirit

But I was the seedling of

a dogwood flower

And led you

From subway to streetcar

To tall grass footpath

And thought I was adventure

In convincing you

to cascade backwards between

dandelion and dew

to match my wavelength

which was unravelling itself between

the blades of grass

as though the meadow were

a maze leading straight

to your disposition

 

TDM

Summer Heat

I need some opinions on this one. Is it complete or does it have a long way to go? Please comment below with any thoughts. Thank you kindly.

 

I could tickle the shade

on a day like today,

musky odour (I admit)

emitting from my “delicate” temple

whose flustered

along with my will

to make happy with

they

who step lightly and grin

while I drip

and drop

and drag myself onward

through what seems like concrete Sahara

Child Grin

Here is a very rough poem for which I was hoping to get some thoughts on:

i can tell

when you lean in quite close

that you wear the fragile grin of a child

on your face,

to hide behind gritted armour

has done you well

but you leave a trail of feathers behind

whenever I walk with you,

a hurried look on your face

to peek through fences

and burrow in the mud

excitement for any difference in the day,

what wonderful character that is,

to fill my head with thoughts of

daisies and falling

leaves and perfume

staining the air,

innocent charm that

scoops me up and tosses me

onto a bed of golden leaves

stealing sweet smiles

that become gentler

and soften into tiny baby giggles

as you frame my face with your hands

and lean in quite close

 

Stray

This piece is yet another work in progress. I would appreciate any feedback on composition or completion (is it complete or does it feel incomplete and abrupt).

A stray took to me

Like a fox to a fawn

And in so doing clung to my skirt

With such grip that she

almost tore me loose

From my garment

So instead of resisting

I guided her

along with me

And took rest by a bank

For I knew she would like to investigate

Just as much as I

What company had befallen her

 

TDM