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5/20/14
by Katie DeanI think about veins all
the time now
the texture of veins,
the softness
and in the beginning, in
a field of haybails
our dog running back and forth between us
the smell of dried alfalfa
mud, honeysuckle
the sky pinking
sweet summer corn
a Ferrari poster now dried up
and glued to the wall
summer is the saddest time of year
the thaw exposes what is
gone now
it is not the sweet rot of
new earth
but the acid rot of the
end of things
that under the rot, just
a sterile nothing
but you,
standing strong then
with some happiness ahead
it sits above my eyes, somewhere
05/20/2014 Posted on 05/21/2014
Copyright © 2023 Katie Dean
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 05/21/14 at 12:32 PM The world does sometimes appear to be an ugly place and most of us ignore it. You have written a poem that says you see it and all I can say is I hope you get to see the other side also. |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/12/15 at 11:03 AM there is much melancholy here, therefore much beauty, from which to glean a tear or two that yearling Spring might be weaned into full the blown Summer of our discontent. |
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