Under these hills
the hills above town
turn brown in summer
a light, golden brown,
color of summer grasses,
when the sky slides west
and the land reaches for the night
the summer sun's loosened light
moves gently across these rough hills
and makes of them a gather
of soft and shadowed velvet
under these hills, my hand moves
along the slow curves of your spine
turn brown in summer
a light, golden brown,
color of summer grasses,
when the sky slides west
and the land reaches for the night
the summer sun's loosened light
moves gently across these rough hills
and makes of them a gather
of soft and shadowed velvet
under these hills, my hand moves
along the slow curves of your spine
posted by MB at 12:30 PM
9 Comments:
i love this: the alliteration, sounds repeating in rhyme dotted across the lines, beautiful imagery, the sensuous touch of curving spine...it is all a total delight!
Oh, that's lovely.
nice!
Excellent ending!!
Woo! Yes, the last line is the kicker. And the alliteration in this is very nice... "the sky slides west" and "the summer sun's loosened light" - very nice.
Once again, you reach inside and thaw places I didn't know were there!
alan
Oh mb...this is perfect.
Perfect, this one is just perfection! Sublime...
Sky, I appreciate your careful reading.
Michelle, that is, of course, where the poem began.
Dale, I'm glad you think so.
rdl, Pat, Leslee, Silvermoon, my thanks to each of you!
Alan, what a wonderful response.
Anne, I think you would appreciate this kind of summer landscape.
Brenda, thank you.
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