The cool air hit like the kiss of an estranged lover
At attention, neck hairs rose and fell
This creeping, elliptical tingle
Tinged with anticipation and sadness
Announcing with sensual overload
the end of hated heat (whose shadows cast
fondly with warm whisper)
Welcome old friend.
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Poetry! Nice.
Pretty soon you be liking Milosz.
or at least attending some poetry slams in the old city.
Jeremy,
I didn’t know you were a poet. I love your poem. It wasn’t until the second reading and the label “season” that I realized the poem wasn’t about a fight between two lovers which ended end a make up that gave one tingles on his neck…I’m sure that was a little descriptive, but that is what I thought of when I read. Yes, I have a dirty mind….But, you have a great poem because the fact that a person can take two meanings from it defines it as true poetry….I just wish that I could be such a poet.
The old city is dead. Long live the old city.
Alice you are a poet, and you need to link your blog to get some good link love.