The BlueIris Semi-Nightly Poetry Break, 5/4/08

[BlueIris]

"To Them, to Their First Conversation"

Sunlight:  Her pituitary balks at the lack of it
and he's an engraver, so for them

light is not taken for granted.  On this day in October
downtown, lunch hour, the sun's acting paternal.

Showing them off to each other.  The man
is flushed with the debonair mutiny of blowing off

his day job, of loafing on the sidewalk, flirting with a woman
with bobcat green eyes.  Between the edge of her scarf

and the scoop neck of her sweater there's a crescent of her skin,
unprotected.  Their first conversation alone.

Blaring noon.  People have to step around them.
A southeastern sky tips down to them its light,

half cloudy, like tea dashed with milk,
which, after a long illness, is brought—

slowly now—
		                   to the lips.

—Belle Waring

[CaliforniaPeggy]

1. My dear BlueIris!

Wow!

So sensual, so erotic, so lovely!

I just love this one...

You are on a roll, sweetie!

Keep 'em coming...

Thank you...

:hug:

[BlueIris]

2. Thank you, Ms. C-Peg!

Belle Waring's poetic work features two extremes: joy and misery. This is one of the joyful ones.

[BlueIris]

3. Kick.

[BlueIris]

4. Kick.