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The Glass Air (for P.K. Page)
by
Carol Halligan |
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Man and Woman, two seasons
He
with hot breath and blue skies
feels her coming
with delicious anticipation, dread
he desires one last look
at ripened field
and lush leaf
to feel warm golden skin
She will deflower him
strip his limbs bare
fold his harvest
into her downy breasts
cover his eyes of fire
with silver pointed flakes
She
mottled moon magician
a cruel bruised chill
poised in the low lightand shifting blue drifts
waits
Her familiar sleeves of ice
wait
to offer an embrace
through a slight slit in his heart
and with whirl of cape, sleight of hand
her reflection infects him
deliciously, inevitably
as he disappears
into her cold glass air
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--Submitted by carol halligan on 2012-03-14.
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Carol Halligan:
Thank you, Holly! Plenty more where that came from.
How about you?
Posted 07/26/2014 11:27 PM
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HollyB:
Really like this poem. Marvelous imagery.
Posted 04/01/2012 02:56 PM
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