Survivors

Survivors

Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Summer Sudden


© 2012 Steve King
All rights reserved


…then evenings
and leisured memories
of each receding day,
bright and perfect,
brilliant mirrors to our sly designs
no matter how we chose to look at them.
Slow slipping to twilight,
faces turned to painted masks,
purple in encroaching shadow,
bared limbs unweathered by the lateness.
We knew it was no longer spring
no matter what the calendar implied.

It seemed the change would never come,
sun would never leave us
to abandon and dark dreams,
whisperings and star-lit conjurings;
our silence at the last
amid the calls of crickets,
and low insect hums,
other shadowed harmonies,
gathered in dark corners
of the shrinking day.

Dense air made wet the tall iced glasses,
leaving dew on ready hands,
teasing ready lips with thoughts of quenching,
quenched lips taunting ready ears,
sighs of easy promise,
leaving for the moment
all prospect of renewal or regret.

All ready.

Rings clicked on the cold glasses,
jeweled facets in rose sunsets
glimmering like lesser stars
as hands moved through shadows
back and forth in fading light;
painted lips curled for the sipping,
tongues for languorous rolling
of all bright sensations;
heat and summer air,
all breath enfolded,
words poised for saying,
if words would even serve a purpose
in the long twilight;
if words would substitute for sensations
waiting close upon the tongue;
if words would better serve the tongue
than soft summer bites,
dark appetites there waiting to devour
the ripening fruit of lingering summer nights.

The scent of perfumed bodies
swift touching,
sudden feeling,
all unspoken accident,
that needn’t be explained,
wouldn’t be undone (how?)
by words or faint regrets
unsuited for belief
or even for remembering,
(how might it be undone?
how could they be undone?).
It was the season made us move,
could not escape the touch,
the scent
the feel;
wondering of one’s own scent
and how to touch
and what to feel
and what to say;
endless twilight fading slow
to ease all pleasure and repose.

Yes, summer indeed.
Just summer.
And the guard was down,
because by then we held nothing
not gladly surrendered.

Summer.
Just summer.
Season of long twilight
and brimming retrospect,
though briefly were the morrows
presaged in each rising moon,
light breaching that horizon,
looming ever larger,
casting our faint shades
through the blaze of magic lanterns.

I wondered of the morrow,
small dreaming of another day,
the long wait for new twilight,
new games to play.

I wondered of tomorrow…
still nothing beckoned from beyond,
save moonlight falling empty;
tired shadows fled across the vacant lawn,
while magic lanterns guttered
one
by
one…

15 comments:

  1. And thus is the life of summer
    Usually not a bummer
    Unless you have no AC
    Then it is awful, trust me.

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  2. wow the guttering there in the end is tight....really like your play with 'ready' there in the middle with the taking of the drink as well...summer though carries its own magic and a bit of heat...which i felt as well...smiles.

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  3. So the mordant fall always seems to slither in...as inevitable as all the summer impulses and appetites, tantalizing, surfeiting, decaying...there's a lovely cadence to this Steve. It just rolls line by line like swallowing a delicious cocktail when one is thirsty and longing for the bottom of the glass to bring an automatic refill. The visuals in this are haunting, even the aural cues--rings clicking on glasses, I swear I can hear it, but my favorite line is "...It was the season made us move..." It calls up that oneness with a cosmos whose dictates we have no choice but to obey and never understand. Fine fine poem.

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  4. for me the key stanza was...
    Yes, summer indeed.
    Just summer.
    And the guard was down,
    because by then we held nothing
    not gladly surrendered.... this for me sums up the whole atmosphere in the piece... a very atmospheric write steve

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  5. Through assonance, alliteration, imagery and the finest of word weaving you present a picture that is MORE. The ineffable, untouchableness of being glitters here, with tinkles of glass, winks of stars and eyes, the cool refreshing lilacs to indigos of evening when neighbors and friends share more than words and drinks. This is exceptionally well written!

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  6. Lovely write about summer, the season, sighs of easy promise, long twilight, magic lantern fading one by one. One of your best writing, this is terrific ~ Cheers ~

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  7. a brilliant portrait of this season that comes too quickly, leaves too early, and almost never lives up to its promise. still, we cannot help but love it just the same.

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  8. OMG Steve, you're writing just carries me away. Soft, sensual-- a whole lot more heat and steam than just the change of seasons. And then you end on quiet note...

    "I wondered of tomorrow…
    still nothing beckoned from beyond,
    save moonlight falling empty;
    tired shadows fled across the vacant lawn,
    while magic lanterns guttered
    one
    by
    one…'
    I cannot find the words to describe where your poetry takes me. Classic, and always a pleasure to read, my friend!

    (BTW, thanks for stopping by to comment-giving you a clue as to what I was trying to capture--its about chronic pain in my knee I've been dealing with the past several weeks, sometimes can barely put weight on it. Slowly feeling better. Tried to express the feeling without actually using the word word "pain!". Sorry if I ruined your imagined concept! )

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  9. Love this...I wondered of tomorrow…
    still nothing beckoned from beyond,
    save moonlight falling empty;
    tired shadows fled across the vacant lawn,
    while magic lanterns guttered
    one
    by
    one… beautiful lines in this piece, Steve.

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  10. To "sighs of easy promise!"

    Ah, summer twilights...

    Very nice, evocative.

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  11. "Dense air made wet the tall iced glasses, leaving dew on ready hands, teasing ready lips with thoughts of quenching, quenched lips taunting ready ears..." ... excellent! Summertime and the living's easy, a perfect time to have your "guard down."

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  12. The beauty, the rhythm, the imagry of this fine poem, leaves me breathless and a wee bit sweaty. Beautifully, carefully crafted piece, Steve. Even the title, Summer Sudden...fits far better than sudden summer. This is a poem to return to again and again. Lovely!

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  13. This is wonderful. I so enjoyed it.

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  14. "words poised for saying,
    if words would even serve a purpose
    in the long twilight;
    if words would substitute for sensations
    waiting close upon the tongue;
    if words would better serve the tongue"

    that is a great statement (funny, that i am writer, but never put much faith in words) and i couldn't agree more.

    this poem is a breeze, the kind that makes just stop and sit, just feel it on my skin, and mixture of everything that is summer, the heat, evaporated chlorine from the public pool down the street, sun tea brewing on the neighbors porch, dandelion parachutes, etc. a pleasure to read my friend.

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  15. Such beautiful summer wonderings; what will our twilights bring?

    Anna :o]

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