|Posted by arley sanchez on June 6, 2011 at 6:10 PM|
September's wildflowers covet the stroke
of an indifferent benevolence,
snapdragons wink heavy with intrigue,
and in the dimming of the day,
I miss your touch, your dreams, your love.
Sparrow poised on a thrusting yucca,
Shy Iris sensuous and silky
like a woman awakening.
Gilded rock roses gather like children
for the ice cream man.
Butterfly weeds detonate
in tangerine anarchy.
September’s wildflower lifts her face
for a morning kiss,
and prickly pear curls in jealousy.
Blossoms sway to crickets' chirp,
honeysuckle dances with the breeze,
imaginary eyes search in softness,
Virginia Creeper boasts plump purple berries,
but promises no wine.
In September's wild graces
lie a conspiracy of waiting,
austere and forbidding,
yet reckless daring finds beautiful intrigue
wild and free in the dimming of the day.