Dear Todd,
I wonder what air
& daylight mean
to the boletes holding
their brown platters up,
or to Indian pipes
with their white
swan necks?
I guess it’s dissolution
that they’re after
here aboveground,
where you need
some kind of hide
or cuticle to hold
the darkness in.
They’re hoping for
a fetid breeze or
brush of insects—
whatever they can get.
Just now, sorting laundry
fresh from the line
in my warm bedroom,
I reached into
a black sweatshirt
to turn it rightside out
& found the evening
coolness hidden
in its sleeves.
OTHER POSTS IN THE SERIES
- Lake
- Harrier
- Second Nature
- November letter
- November Sabbath
- Atrial Fibrillation
- What I Wanted to Tell the Nurse When She Pricked My Thumb
- Snow Moon
- Forgive Me
- Over the Hills
- Letter to Dave from the Karen Noonan Center on the Chesapeake Bay
- Spring distractions
- Letter with May’s Insatiable Hunger Tagging Along
- Letter from Midsummer
- Our Forgetting
Lovely – several images I especially liked: the white swans and the platters. But my favorite surprise was what you found in your shirt.
Very nice.
Great poem. Especially liked the coolness found in the sleeve. Refreshing. Have a nice day.
These are great… I hope you know how I look forward to them!
Thanks. I think Todd and family are away on vacation right now, so I don’t think he’ll respond with quite his usual alacrity (though I’m sure it won’t take him as long as it usualy takes me).
Thanks for all the comments — and sorry for the sluggish rate of posting these days! My brain doesn’t work well in summer.
“My brain doesn’t work well in summer.”
Really?
So many skins in this one.
Well, I try.