Contemplating Lemonade

Contemplating Lemonade

I merely recline this day
So lazily
Upon this porch
My window to the world
And beyond the fences it is bloody hot
The haze is like a cotton blanket, drifting aimlessly
In the summer afternoon breeze
There is no strength in these bones
Only the marrow of literary awe and wonder
My arteries filled with poetry
Stymied in the heat
And still the fire burns in me hot to let it all out at once with in a fury never
Cooled by this lemonade of life
The richness, and slowness, and appreciativeness
The flowers of things and watching little kids on swings
Man, am I ever thirsty for this lemonade and
The flowers of things and watching little kids on swings
The richness, and slowness, and appreciativeness
Cooled by this lemonade of life
And still the fire burns in me hot to let it all out at once with in a fury never
Stymied in the heat
My arteries filled with poetry
Only the marrow of literary awe and wonder
There is no strength in these bones
In the summer afternoon breeze
The haze is like a cotton blanket, drifting aimlessly
And beyond the fences it is bloody hot
My window to the world
Upon this porch
So lazily
I merely recline this day