From my Old Poems collection

Photo by Aniket Bhattacharya on Unsplash

The Spring night air finds a void
And swirls inside, filling me up with restlessness
I can see all the dreams I’ll never follow

Tonight we shouldn’t be alone
It calls for sitting on porches
And the watching of grass and voices

Crickets and garden hoses
Feel James Agee coming home again
When we were children and played in the street

It was always best on nights like this
Get some beer and we’ll read Shakespeare
Or sing until we can’t remember any more songs

Tonight it is calling for the stars
To come and pluck us from our Earth
And we shouldn’t be alone.

Dispelling cultural myths with research-driven stories. My favorite word is “specious.” Not fragile like a flower; fragile like a bomb! Twitter @ElleBeau

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