ALLONS-Y

It’s a random sunny Tuesday afternoon after school and
I’m back on the ground on our first day in Seattle skipping across sidewalk cracks in the rain bouncing like a pair of lips across your cheeks in the morning

We’re landing with foot splashes in puddles and just missing others experiencing a combination of cold and wet we haven’t felt before

Yeah,
We’re a fresh dose of happy rolled into clouds of grey like M&M’s in fresh cookie dough
As we just catch our ferry across the Puget and we’re on our way:
Allons-y, let’s go!

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, February, 2018

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Je Veux, Chapitre Deux

I want no more Sundays
Haunted by leafless boughs on hidden nameless lakes
Sweeping across solidified vistas of mould
Failing to break through the everglade fog

Feet stuck deep in the mud of the stick marsh
Up to my ankles up to my knees
Groin level
Searching for an apt metaphor
For mud between the toes
For grey sculptures set in a crepuscular ray

Cloudless hellish-skies let loose
Reigning through eternal bells de bleu
Ringing and singing their silly songs
Of Sunday

Let me dance through trees like the squirrels
Let me soar through the air like the hawk
Let me live nine lives like my cat
Let me squawk all day long like the caged bird who lives next door

If I want to, if I want
No more Sundays haunted by leafless boughs on hidden nameless lakes
Set me off set me loose let me follow
the loggerheads out
to the green Sargasso Sea
Set adrift on the Gulf Stream flows of eternity.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, January 2018