THE COURTSHIP OF WINDS

Jean Howard

​

Joe Sleeps

​

Your eyelids close

Under the shadow

Of your baseball cap

6 PM sun collapses 

Onto trees

And the neighbor's

Roofline which casts 

It's suburban shadow

Onto your chest 

 

The creek leaps

Fast forward

With bulging cheeks

Pushed into panic

By fired-up snow 

Far away

 

Light still illuminates 

The fast

Small bubbles attached 

To cherries in your

Drink 

 

Sparks of Prosecco 

Traveling swiftly along tall glass

And there you sleep 

With May rushing

Onto June 

And warmth running

Down your face

So even your lips

Part now

 

The same warmth

That electrifies

The creek 

 

That turns

The cherry in

Somersaults 

 

That crawls up

My arms 

To become my cheek 

 

Soon it will hit

Walls and be snuffed

Out 

The sudden slap

Of darkness

That knocks day

To its knees.