Saturday, May 17, 2014

Poem: Ashland


Skylark pencil sketches the coast,
comes away with elkhorn, sapphire,
pinch of cedar wrapped in an omelet,
marionberry, salmon, wild boar, butterfish,
sweet soy, red curry, a pond of mussels.

Tippered by wine he stage-rights to a
flagon of language, wall-length poem of
riddle and love and honor and
love and wildness and time and a
green hat in the next seat,
smile in stagelight.

She is everything that
he is supposed to

She walks away so gorgeous he
cannot let go. Pinches her sleeve,
reels her back, applies lips.

From the collection Fields of Satchmo 
Photo by MJV

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