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summer_jackelOh, the problem was that there was a poem I hadn't written. I see. Perhaps now I shall be able to get some sleep.
Not sure about the title. Or the poem; I'll decide if I like it later.
EDIT: fixed some stuff, changed the title.
Textures
(love in August)
8.13.11
It’s late and I am
edgy, joyful from a night of dance
and wearied down with grieving.
Trying to remember
that the night is warm
that outside, tall redwoods curve upward to meet
their gentle and twinkling indigo sky;
and
bushing laundry from my travel-bag I
am stilled to breathe the faintest
scent of her home on the soft fabric
of my old dressing gown.
For all at once,
swirling round my heart like rainwater:
all the textures of her,
her lightness in my arms.
Not sure about the title. Or the poem; I'll decide if I like it later.
EDIT: fixed some stuff, changed the title.
Textures
(love in August)
8.13.11
It’s late and I am
edgy, joyful from a night of dance
and wearied down with grieving.
Trying to remember
that the night is warm
that outside, tall redwoods curve upward to meet
their gentle and twinkling indigo sky;
and
bushing laundry from my travel-bag I
am stilled to breathe the faintest
scent of her home on the soft fabric
of my old dressing gown.
For all at once,
swirling round my heart like rainwater:
all the textures of her,
her lightness in my arms.
