Summer words

The Trickster with

illusions so bright

I sometimes think

I don’t see them

He enters

dreams as if

he were balancing the surf

knowing he really doesn’t know

whether it’s wave or hand

doing the controlling

He slips notes under

my feet

and the steps delight

and frighten him into new

corners and open fields

when his day or moment

sees it’s fit

for such

justice of parody



She appeared to address the landscape

as if it were socks that needed pulling off

The slow smile and widening eyes

seem to tell me from across

our standing bridge

that she could see fantasy

of touching there

and nowhere there

like the reflection of the silverscreen

upon my eyes

she saw it clearly

and it broke up the slowness of day

and the staleness of the common

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s