Was listening to Buddy Holly on the way back to work. True Love Ways. Love the passion he sings with. Love the orchestral parts of that song. Makes me feel melancholy to hear it, and for some reason, it makes think of the beach, more specifically, of Virginia Beach, where I was born and lived for 13 years. I was very young when he died (if I remember correctly, it was 1959), so it's more a memory of hearing it time and again as a child that takes my mind back home to Virginia. Alas, no new poem to post here, but I am going to post some more old ones. Makes me sad to revisit these old poems and to think about how much has changed since I wrote them. Sadder still to think of what is still the same ( much of what is still the same today is something I wish had changed for the better).

Willowed Evening

In the indigo night,
I walk beneath the willow,
fumble my way through cast
off limbs and severed branches.

Dew settles, beds
the undergrowth, tempts my hot
feet to move on. Wet
and chilled, I slink in the shadows,
unknown in the darkest dark, recline
in the damp lust-cover of night.

Come. See the same
stippled light of stars my eyes
open and shut to, sleep
with me until tomorrow, forget
the way morning explodes
like a thousand different suns
in universes we may never know.

Guess that's all for today. Classes start next week and I'll have even less time to play around here on my blog. Just wish I didn't feel so bummed.
*sigh*