a flashback
sun splattering us in technicolour,
stained with light
cheekbones aching,
currents thrumming
migraine hue at the edges
hearts beat faster
minds and eyes pinpoint
to infinite acuity
heads swell with
chests strain from
and laugh
Steps slapping
rhyming
heads back and
smiling.
'thrumming' and 'slapping' are great words to put in the same poem. This poem recalls the sensations of pleasure and mixes them with those of pain and discomfort - and that really is (just about) the secret of life, at least for Roman Catholics. So well done. Genius.
The Protstants will be jealous. They often are.
The atheists will be bitter and twisted. They almost always are - especially on this site!
Great to see you back posting Rachel! I remember those summers not at all...
aw lovely hun xx
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Dave Bradley
Tue 29th Mar 2011 15:57
Enjoyed this. It felt like there could be more to come, but maybe that's just the effect of the poem - that expanding 'more, more, more' feeling one can get with summer