...did clink
that back door
out toward the walnut treeshade
running to the tire swing
we
swung so low I filled heaven
in a mugfull of your soul
and drank until
the day came
to tulips in rain
till that swing swung
only to winter's breeze
blowing our summer to clouds
the storm and the years
dropped by like the hard fruit
of the tree that we owned
-
Like that, you were gone
the summer gone
house gone
the tire's gone
the tree's cut
and a lazy red new house
sits splayed for it's new owners
young drinkers of tulip rain
and honey
but no old tire
no swing shade
no summer with grace
no time, no trust or season
to let go of the door
to run
to let go weak reason
and...
Written By Eric Bachman
9 comments:
I used to have a tree like that in my yard. It was my fortress and I was the princess.
I hope everone did! Ours was on a hillside, too, so part of the swing range was very high off the ground. Someone would get hurt every year, it seemed like. But that doesn't stop them.
loved this one. i think alice walker could give it a real nice reading.
Love this, just the imagery it conjures up...
well, Eric, you know how I feel about this one....
Clink!
we all did clink
salute the blank
canvas sky
sunrise bath
glasses never
empty for long
Eric - thanks so much for adding some of your writing to my humble little corner...it brightens the spot up!
Thanks, Barb. I'll send more soon. This is turning into a very bright spot. I think everyone will have a poetic renaisance very soon.
What a graceful turn of words evoking memory and change and what emotions they both stir.
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