Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Peach Sky

Peach Sky

The sun’s a loophole,
a peach in the breeze,
and haze like smoke
hangs between trees.

There’s a warming
buried in the land’s long guts,
steadily fibrillating
like lost clockwork.

They sense it, all living things,
shoppers, weans and nutters,
they’ve a spring
in their step, a valve’s unshuttered;

nature is nudging them
to tiny acts of mayhem.


hope said...

I love that last line! :)

Mairi said...

The question is, is the sun an ambiguity that provides a way of escaping a difficulty without resorting to minor civil unrest and mayhem, or is it a small slit in a wall, especially one through which small arms may be fired to incite them?

new small acts of mayhem

shug said...

Indeed, ambiguities everywhere.

I feel for people with small arms, though.

Stooshie said...

You feel for people with small arms? Why, can't they do it for themselves?

I really like it - until it kind of loses its preceding rhythm in the final couplet, which is a really good couplet, but feels out of sync with what went before, metrically.

Sorry to nitpick.

shug said...

aye stoosh, how about nature is nudging them along/to new acts of msyhem?

Stooshie said...

What about it? I was merely expressing an opinion, not negatively criticising your piece of work.

shug said...

I was responding to your positive suggestion you daft bastard.

Crafty Green Poet said...

I really like the last line, it does sum up spring pretty well

Stooshie said...

Oh aye, never noticed the change. My apologies, you recondite old recluse you.