The Afternoon of a Poem


an old afternoon and reading
some magazines and sandals
upon the terrace left awry in
shapes unmade by leaves the rain of
noon blue after thunder sky
in a garden of someone
I don’t know mowing lawns
and red geraniums
the cold soles of urgent feet
somewhere the air motions hairs
along your arms and down the road
somehow the sun is sliding now
the tree a line of heat among the cracks
of terracotta pots
the little lizard of the stones
and no ideas but astir
amidst the leaves where bikinis breeze
and birds make promises in trees
there on the horizon or some
Chinese white chemise
the buttons come undone
and mauve and green
compose this scene of
sudden sun and owed repose

*

Started playing around with this on Monday and chucked it to one side. This morning it all seemed to come together.

I'm beginning to learn how to be patient.

I keep twiddling with it - maybe best to leave alone?