I love the ecstasy of poetry,
icicles in August
snowbirds landing
daggers to the heart
unplugging the lamppost
climbing the flagpole
embroidering each word
like macrame,
the earth tilted on its axis
and love becoming an obsession
or a reversal of fortune
like a midnight rider
a larcenous robber
an artful dodger.
We dwell within our cocoon
a bull, a bear, a poet,
but we are inspired
by the weeds and wildflowers
and a world wrapped in milk and honey
a galaxy trapped in catapulting words
that seduce and befriend us
with sultry things like icicles in August
and the ecstasy of poetry.
© Connie Song 2023. All Rights Reserved.
