poetry by j matthew waters

Archive for the tag “summer”

last summer

it is summer again
though this time it’s different
aerial artists spelling out words
across a clear blue sky
resonating with how you feel

there is no changing of the guard
or replacing the old with the new
there is only forward progression
as if living inside a movie reel

with each passing summer
something new dies
and as another night draws near
you find more artists in the sky
spelling out their names

march two thousand twenty-one
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

giving way to the morning light

it was late summer and the heat
and the humidity
were unbelievable
as unreal as december hummingbirds
reminding me of long goodbyes
and last hurrahs

all the doors and windows
were locked tight
hundreds of candles
lighting up the entire roost
unable to keep out the sirens
screaming from within

I refused to open up to new ideas
as long as all the old ones
hadn’t run their course
not until every candle
had burned out on its own volition
replaced by a natural light

september two thousand nineteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

perpetual september

just because class is back in session
doesn’t mean summer is over

out in the country
barn doors are still not shut
horses running free
chasing southern sun falling fast

back in town old school windows
are thrown wide open
faces sticking out and tongues wagging
uninterested in arithmetic
doodling one wild idea after another

sometimes october never arrives
forever waiting in the wings
oh yes sometimes
september is simply perpetual

august two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

dog fight

the flight of the single line kite
dressed in fire engine red
with hawk like eyes
is somewhat controlled
by slow tugs
and sharp yanks
tactfully waiting
for a cyclonic burst
to blast it toward the enemy
rearing its cunning sharp blade

may two thousand twelve
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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