Sharing with The Sunday Muse #212.
Let's start a rumor of an urban legend
When the sky fell hard for the blacktop
Called itself Icarus and headed
to the beach, pressing over 85
We were lying three to a hammock
Under Keith's parents' beach house
Back when his dad still gave the weather
on Channel 5
When Icarus blew by
Blue sky comet on the asphalt twilight
Kissed our shoulders, lied.
Breeze says everything gets bright
When the sky blows through the night
When the sky blows through the night
-- Chrissa
I love the idea of an asphalt twilight kissing shoulders. That is a glorious line within an amazing poem of memories. So glad you are writing my friend!
ReplyDeleteYes indeed, so many yarns to be weaved, so many stories still to be written.
ReplyDeleteBravo!!!
Have a good Sunda Chrissa
Thanks for dropping ny my blog
Much💛love
Who doesn't enjoy watching comets in the night sky?
ReplyDeleteLove this, Chrissa.
Your poetry inspires, satisfies and thrills me ... every time.
ReplyDeleteI can feel the breeze! Such a sense of both the mythic and prosaic in this one, and the detail about weather on channel 5 made it so immediate and cemented the sense of things already blown past.
ReplyDelete"Blue sky comet on the asphalt twilight" Great image!
ReplyDelete