Bare Feet and Feathers

Bang on the ground and clang in the sky, Ringing ragged rash, pimpled up sizzle. Singing salient, singeing brilliant, baked us dead dry. Southern citrus and succulent sun, Syrupy sweet popped down drizzle Enveloping tongue, puckered pout; your sweet fun. Morning’s cheer applauding, “Awake!” Sheer chiffon pursed, wanted kiss. Gauzy glamour, breezy and bright; my loving ache. Glamorous cool glade shaded, heavy and dark, Gaia’s fauns governing the afternoon bliss. Teeming tendrils teasing the feathers of our nubile lark. High brittle flight across the chilled glass bright. Aloof and aloft, trillions of dead backs turned this way. Squinted up and bowed down; our tearful plight. Sultry dangerous hips swaying suggesting sin Buried under a million nights and one candle’s wax Pouring over shoulders, into veins, through your skin. Royal regal voices pour from a saxophone’s bell Berry juices bleeding from spring’s best snacks Demure shrug shoulder, winked my knowing and...

Kickoff. A high arc spiral from father to son Across fallen fluttering leaves. Wishes. Encouragements. Settlements. You zip your jacket against the cold. Second quarter. Bulldogs dig into New Haven mud; A plastic thock of pad-to-pad. Handsome Dan charms the cheerleaders. The underclassmen sell hot chocolate. Halftime. Aunts bake turkeys while grandfathers gloat Brothers pout and sisters strut The Coach bellows “Dedication!” Cranberry prayers in breathy fog. Third quarter. A pimpled pigskin bloated, Too tight for your grip to toss And violate November’s taught linen. Bands in the stands press the party on. Fourth Quarter. Hands are held, cheers sent up. Flags waved, pennants folded. Hearts are wrapped in flannel. Our silly love is suspended in an icy milk sky. In summer; we worshipped near naked bodies. Gods that sprint over the clay. Come autumn, we’ve grown burly, Tossing our Giants into the fray. We wish for shoulders to lean into the wind. We spe...

Fall tosses summer’s heavy breath, With a cantaloupe syrup, That blankets your tongue Its sweet chill tightens your throat And tosses your head back, So flare your nostrils into the wind Let your corneas catch those pinpricks of life That escapes the Universal coal. Life begins at the soles of your feet And sings in the swing of your hips Extend… Extend, Extend! And your soul remains in your shoes Under the weight of your terminal calendar. Wear bells and anklets and clack castanets Roll and whirl, grind and swirl Be tawny vellum taunting Be sweaty and sweet wanting Needing validations from fingers dancing Over goose flesh, hair and underwear. Be exhausted and spent Draped across your lover And when you step on to the porch Jupiter will wink Reach… Reach, Reach! And you’ll never poke Saturn And set its rings spinning like dinner plates. We are atoms of God Made to be mulch And made to be sung Dancing our dances In fanciful unison.

Our New England season was warned to us. It was rumored in the smoke of August’s barbecue. And slipped from underneath a mulch pile. Our burly season sits in a weave of rag wool It whispers to us in hot cider steam And rides on hay bales behind a tractor. Our flannel season rests on corn field stubble. It stretches before us in shadows over gnarly bark And hides beneath dry fractured crunch. Our crashing season simpers in crumbling leaves It rushes, crushes and crinkles ahead of each step And blushes like pumpkins on your cheek. Our hand holding season snags the breath of a waterfall It wishes for hot chocolate, pie, and turkey And rides on the tail of a red tailed hawk. Our learning season rings its bell in pale grey linoleum It is a wide open bulletin board populated by thumb tacks And leaks out of your new backpack. Our gravestone rubbing season chaps your lips It knits charcoal in feathers with breezes And glistens like sugar and sap. Our Autumn reminds ...

Sandy said Orange and I thought Blue Homecoming colors and aluminum bleachers She saw the promise of infinite change And I saw the Danbury High School Hatters Sandy said Orange and I remember Ridiculously hot cocoa and an aluminum chill Cable knit sweaters and army wool blanket She saw the future and an infinite thrill. I wondered what is now and she wanted what will.

Peace reverberates in the rattle of a cat’s purr It slips between the dust dancing in a shaft of sunlight (The one you played with in your Grandmother’s dining room) Peace expands with each beat of your heart to canvas your town with a blanket of your best intentions. It is a whisper from your soul to your best friend’s ear. Peace is ego. It is self-important and satisfied. It is the sum of crumbs on a plate And the notch of a belt loosened. Peace knows where it is going So well that it never needs to leave. It does not doubt. Peace lands on your skin with the impact of a snowflake It is delivered with a lover’s touch And infects you with a long, languid implosion. Peace throws a leg from under the covers And over the side of the bed. It leaves its clothing on the bedroom floor. Peace chooses its orbit and watches from above It is patient and waits for an invitation Peace is passive as it witnesses our wars. It is a pedestrian waiting at the crosswalk It knows ...

When midnight flips And the stars stare disapprovingly Grip your elbows, bundle your sweater And start toward the porch. Summer slips over your teeth on the lick of a mussel. Cat tails salute that sinful sun. You stare into a fistful of sand… Four hundred fossils… Long Island Sound reclaims its history from your hand in a billow of surrender. and drags you toward Christmas. Twelve years of five and dimes leave you yearning for notebooks and pens, stiff jeans and the plastic smell of sneakers. Your mother worries; it’s a new bus route. August blares in cicadas’ incessant drone. Taste Autumn in the smoke of a charcoal grill Summer is as slippery as sweat And as evasive as shade at a family picnic.