Fell asleep
beneath your fallen boughs,
woke with luck at
dusk.
The thickest air,
my private patio,
your fallen black and blue,
a perfect towel,
for lounging
in the setting sun,
my pool.
Forgetting pride,
within your shadow
I reveal what poets
hide.
My verse,
a final minty kiss
on scarred higher ground.
My hands
caress the hillside’s
flushed, sunburnt neck.
Then, I turn and face,
a blossoming sunset.
Yard Sale of Thoughts 
I love the line about revealing what poets hide, but Dauphy now wants to know what I am hiding from him!
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So does my partner, hmm, maybe we should tell them? No, there are some things poets must keep to themselves, I suppose.
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Definitely!
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You can’t beat a sunset over the alps!
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It’s so true. Magical all day, but that time in particular, casts its spell.
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I was lucky enough to see this from a bathtub once 😊
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That sounds spectacular.
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It was! We have alps in Slovenia too which is quite convenient 😃
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I’d love to visit Slovenia and take in some of the sights you’ve shared. Let’s hope for an open border summer.
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Yes, I’m hoping that too. I’d like to get home and see the folks!
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What a beautiful poem. I just love it!
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Thank you very much. I loved that view. Just wanted to sit and stare at it as the day came and went.
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You had me until I read “sunburn”. This is one of your fantasy pieces, isn’t it?
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I actually got a bit burned on the porch this weekend. Hazard of napping in the hammock, I suppose.
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Did you place the hammock under a lens?
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It was very bright there; I think the altitude put me closer to the sun.
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that must have been it. Just as well you did not try to fly anywhere, else you would have melted!
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Beautiful imagery.
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Thank you.
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beautiful and calming —
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Thank you. I miss it already.
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