justwrite 15 august

when i get home i call rome for a picnic i stow a gnome in a napsack with a halfstack of dollar cakes a pan full of syrup a hurky jerky lurkle circling the globe with a hat looking for its match and i am the carrier and i tip the ferrier to make sure that we don't topple but the thing is the dapples on my peaches are reaching a whole new bowl full of glory with their crinkly skins their sprinkling sins growing up into better elves their sweeter selves richer in reflection a tree direction straight up in loving cups of hopeful stuff like spring onions though no one wants to smell like those fingers to ring those dingers but to linger in the shadows of a late summer day smelling autumn in the wrist twisted into your own it's a home-grown remedy to homesickness a pickled case full of erased dates and calendars slamming full glasses of juice into fruity treeflowers powering all the lights on a city street in the deep dark park with the love under sidewalks talking in secret riddles twiddling the earthworms into moist cool smiles the whiles away and out to play until no one says and when no one dares the whispers are gone again moths in the flowers watching the spider webs and imagining what could have been in a different light but it's bright enough for now that the cow has milked a silken earth full of queen anne's lace and replaced the dark with cool light