Submitted by Madeline on Wed, 05/17/2017 - 19:31

they sow

tryst, fight their woes with burgundy
bleach their teeth in lies
romanticize their plight
and fantasize in yellow

hyacinths, basking under an indifferent sun
beached on a grassy knoll
the sun will take its toll
while the pull of the promise precedes

this, an isolated chastised moment
a finger wagging sharp
between two eyebrows barred
and scarred, from raising at another

bliss, it's neither here no there
but lies in shoulderblades
a soft skin for a stage
a play, put on by fingers

indeterminate, so it's not needed
so the deep sky doesn't fall
down so hard at night and call
pshaw, you were soiled ten degrees


Author's age when written


I WISH I could write poetry as well as you do. That's all I can say.

And I've only done the first read, but I REALLY know I love a poem when I don't even pay attention to the meaning at first...just sail through the deliciousness of the words.

You're seriously such a master at what you do... When I read this, I was (not kidding) visualizing it as print on a glossy magazine page.

SARAHHHHH you just made my week! And it's been a pretty good week, so. You are so lovely! I could trade compliments with you all day, because your poetry always feels like the pinnacle of expert, delicious writing to me and for you to say that means so much. ❤❤❤ Thank you thank you thank you!

How have I not read any of these masterpieces!!!!! Ditto to Sarah!!!! I wish I could express how impressive and masterful these are!!! Love!

"Here's looking at you, Kid"
Write On!