Urges, in Blue



She splurges
on the turquoise sky,
the cerulean breeze
and the gossip-talk

of trees that know this
Lake fairly aches with
everything she needs.

She seeds
herself in skysong, silence,
wild defiant sighs and smiles
that just might outlast all these
miles, once bound
for home. She’s drunk

on sun and moon and sand
and the delicate places where
waves kiss land and all the un
-ruly disorderly aquamarine
stained pools in between. Pull

her over; she’ll breathe for
(breathe in hue)
and prove she’s unfit
for anything but these Lakey
shores and scores and scores
of squandered time. Tide. Moon.

It can’t be helped. She can’t be held
soaking up
all this impossible





Prompted by Poetic Asides.



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4 Responses to Urges, in Blue

  1. Marie Elena says:

    Oh yes … and sighs and jealousy abounds over here over sun and blue and words of you …

  2. Shawna says:

    “She splurges
    on the turquoise sky”

    That is all I need, right there. I think that’s a poem, all by itself.

    I love this line: “of trees that know this”

    “Lake fairly aches” … I misread this as, “like fairy aches,” which I love.

    “She seeds
    herself” … Perfect. Also, “She seeds herself fin(s).”

    “wild defiant sighs” … Again, a poem all by itself. Or at least a title of a new poem. What if that were a poet’s approach to writing? Each new poem began with the title, coming from a phrase from the previous poem. That would/could make an incredible book. Even if the poems were all micro.

    that just might outlast all these” … You’d better believe it.

    “for home. She’s drunk” … “She’s drunk for home.” It always happens. It’s the best ending to every story.

    I love this:
    “She’s drunk
    on sun and moon and sand
    and the delicate places”

    I LOVE this: “It can’t be helped. She can’t be held”

    So did you see that, when I had that byline up? “She can’t be held, responsible.” I thought that was pretty clever. 🙂

    A ridiculous amount of yum splattered up there for me to eat. THANK YOU. I have been missing you like a psychopath addicted to cheese. I don’t even know what that means, but since when does that matter?!

  3. Anyone can see you’ve been hanging around with her, drinking all that beauty and have become a totally irresponsible blue-drunk!

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