Still, I look to June to walk barefoot in warm rain, step in silk grass
tall green blades floss between my toes, soft reddish dirt clings to damp feet
Catching rain tempered by softness on my pink tongue, drops start out small
Catching rain tempered by softness on my pink tongue, drops start out small
I spied a six inch grasshopper one wet June day, tiny statue
the color of a pared cucumber; motionless we both remained
Mother didn't believe me, said I was dreaming things up somehow
Wonder what happened to those...old red galoshes that buttons closed
The rain slicker I wore to school, forever cycling through thrift shops
Asphalt softened under my heels, humid air smelled of Sweet Woodruff
Arms outstretched, I shut my eyes spinning in crooked circles twirling
Graceful mind body connection, emancipation - Pure Joy!
Fresh moments in my own operetta, aria transporting
Rosemary's scent reached my brain, stirring furious to baring one's self
to the elements - now, to find rain on June's summer solstice day
when no one will see, into my back yard, myself, bare nakedly
Today Victoria has us writing poems with voice over at dversepoets.com
Today Victoria has us writing poems with voice over at dversepoets.com

