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Board Administrator Username: mjm Post Number: 4417 Registered: 11-1998 |
Honorable Mention Summer, Said Slowly Vienna (Carole Barley) Summer is ethereal, a whisper caught between crystal stems, hand cut, sharp. Summer said slowly, zephyr amongst the nod-head fritillaries and day lilies that tigered the garden only yesterday, when camera films were nowhere to be found and light danced carelessly, glancing off daybreak cobwebs like gliss; the occasional crack of leather against willow. Pimms and ice, mint-pearling into aftenoons cadenced with a June made of lashes, easy slope of shoulders grown accustomed to aquamarine lappings, sway-easy, unshaven mornings, languid; green cotton against flesh, the sudden kill of chalcedony eyes somewhere just south of a confluence of seas, Asian seas made myth, sounding of summer. Glints of fish just underneath, jewel-gardens and tales of mermaids, sirensongs gathered from a dusk of shores, goldengallioned away on the next bright tide. And still the murmur of the sea, ammonite curlings of waves fossilized in the brain, overcome with the fragrance of English grass, falling on knives, freshmown sweet, hunted for in Septembers where all is dried, spent, littered by the winds. |
