orgami's Diaryland Diary

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summer heat

refraction of thought
run like a rough edge cut
the bulb of blood
working its way along
the curve

pain like a sunburn
inching its way
not like a frostbite
at all

the haze of summer
thick on the leaves
like fat green tongues
waving in the wind
talking their quiet
language
unobscured by the careless
nail that run its quick
walk along my skin
rusted for good measure
weather worn steel
(galvanized would have been
too good for the tree perch!)

let my legs dangle from the
plank edges the bright long
run of it leaking into my
BF Goodrich flyers from Stedmans
where the Myna Bird in the cage
would speak and the gumball
glass gleamed as bright as the
waxed chewing treasures inside
as bright as the blood turning
dark in the heat

the sun bright and shinning
hot off fathers sedan parked
beneath the climb from the
drive to the base of the old
feild maple

Peroxide and bandages
and the rain fell heavy that
night on everything
and the cut itched like
a new idea forged up in
a restless dream

6:59 p.m. - 2011-12-20

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