Tag Archives: Poetry

On the Slide

I lay my back down on the slide

And turn my face up to the sky

The clouds are sailing past the trees

The branches sway and stir their leaves

 

The wind brushes against my legs

It moves the hairs upon my head

I feel it up and down my arms

The day is nice. The breeze is warm

 

My glasses rest upon my nose

They’re smudged. I clean them with my clothes

When I take them off my face

I feel the breeze on a new place

 

I had not known what I had missed

But now I feel I’ve wanted this

A feather touch, forehead to chin

My eyelids blink against the wind

 

I look again to see the sky

But clouds and light blur in my eyes

The tree above has lost its leaves

Replaced by fuzzy canopy

 

What a pity! Cannot I

Experience both the wind and sky?

To make me choose my eyes or skin

My eyesight does not let me win

Unselfconscious

I saw the Moon. Did the Moon see me?

Near the edge of where the Earth bit off the Sun’s light, she had a crater.

It was grey and large, a faded scar. Nearby were speckles of darker black, deeper pits in her surface. She shone only brightly around her blemishes.

I stopped on my path and stared. It was quite rude.

Did she see me stare? Or was the night a cover for my gaze?

Perhaps she was blushing; the moonlight was radiant in the night, sanding away the lines and points of the world. As her light soaked the clouds in her face, she revealed their transparency.