September Evening #DVersePoetic

Summer has left the door outside open,

is drinking mulled wine on the patio,

leaving petals by her feet one by one.

Too focused on the sun’s slow set to notice

exchanging looks and Night’s arrival

its cloak across its shoulders slipping,

gold stars sewn like seeds on soil,

for Summer’s goose-pricked shoulders

brass tanned and shivering.


There were a few options for last night’s DVerse Poets ‘Poetics’ Prompt. I chose to write a poem by taking one of the lines provided (Summer is leaving too exchanging its gold for brass) and using each word as the starting word for each line of my own poem. The last two lines were the trickiest to finalise, but after a bit of playing around I managed to come up with a piece that I was happy enough to post.

Sun Sick

Tonight I am chasing the cool side of the pillow,

almost as elusive as breeze

despite the windows with their open mouths

panting in the heat.

Here, the backs of my knees slide slicked

between day fresh sheets

too quickly twisted into abandoned heaps,

lumps of coal still smoldering at the foot of this bed

all while the ceiling fan wheels in slow circles

the air curdling into soups so thick

it sticks in my lungs

like grief I want to scream into the cool side of a pillow

until my breath has turned cotton to swamp,

until I cannot tell the tears from my sweat

 

and the summer feels a little less like a coffin

pressing in on all sides.

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Slow, Summer Days

Some days are made for ambling.

Those slow, soft, warm days,

when the breeze only stirs lazily

and the sun slouches across the sky,

scuttled with wispy mares’ tails,

too relaxed to do much of anything.

Those days are the best for long walks

through country lanes with arching oaks,

and dappled woodlands

with root woven soils

to leave your shoes scuffed

your knees mud streaked

and your hands stained by bark.

Those days should take you places,

those nowhere in particular places,

before finding yourself closer to home

than you would have ever thought.


Daily Prompt: Amble

I’ve been for a couple of walks this year with the other half. I want to see if we can visit Grinshill Hill this month but the weather doesn’t look like it’s going to let up much for a few weeks. I’ve been up it a few times as a child but not in the last five or six years, perhaps longer.

Tell me, what are the places you like to go on those lovely not-too-hot, just right sort of summer days?

The Trials Of Harvest

It’s clunking
and clanking,
spluttering and
BANG!

Sheered bolt,
splintered support,
bits flying
crash, crunch, thump-

Shit.
Fucking hell
and shit.

Two days in the field,
a half finished field
where grain heads still bob,
trailers still empty.

Two days of welding,
twisting, fixing,
only for a final diagnostic.

Terminal.

No amount of gutting,
of open heart surgery
is going to fix this.

Options,
options,
give me god dam options!

Contractors?
Rentals?
Fuck it all and splash the cash?
How much for a new one,
and by new I mean second hand,
or well maintained third
even fourth if it’s lasted well.

Call in the family.
Twenty acres down before heart failure
but plenty more still to go.
Call in the family
and pray.

Pray for no rain.
Pray for no break downs.
Pray to finish before September.
Don’t care if you have faith
just get on and pray.