W. HERFACE (j_blah) wrote in _deadpoets_,

"it's feckin spring time. have a poem!" draft 1.

i made some tea
and walked out onto the deck, barefoot.
baby tea leaves
glimmering spiderweb's line struck
string pulled and swaying
i walked through it anyway.

bugs this way and that
tea's too hot yet
and i don't like how there are already
so many wasps trying,
plinking into the vinyl and glass,
zooming. i'm leaning over the rail.

i forgot about the dog.
i'm railing.
the basement's colder.

she ignored me
and walked through the mud.
i walked through the gravel, barefoot.

in the front yard, i heard
half-tadpoles sort-of hiding
and escaping bluegills.
i think it's time
to go back inside.

a backyard path,
still damp with dew
and some daffodils for added intensity
in the sunshine
leads me back to the patio bricks,
and i find they are warmer.

i'm opening the door now
and the dog goes inside.
a bug runs into my face.

i spilled the tea.

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