Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Poetry Wednesday

The Oranges

Our fingers are thick with citrus
and a grey face has risen high over the kitchen clock
and fallen low again.
We are celebratory         .
Crashing through the wet air, we
take off our blankets and celebrate again
our nakedness, thrown forward,
puzzling, and bright.

Annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd something not-mine that I love:

by Bianca Stewart

Last time we went swimming
the sea stood up and hugged you
as though you were responsible
for keeping it blue

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