Go back

                                                                                                Scott Metz




first spring winds—
she likes what it’s done
to my hair


first warm day—
a pair of snow-angels
show us the earth


open for a moment
pollen floating
in the vase water


after school
children picking flowers
from bales of grass


long after she’s gone
dandelion fluff
rising again


mid-summer rain...
the river has
swallowed its island


rainy season—
the crescent moon’s light
reaching the river


opening a beer bottle
with a beer bottle


night heat—
a cicada
in each commercial


winter night—
he tries to slurp his soup
just like his father


                                                                                                © Scott Metz

triple rule

Loch Raven Review Fall 2005 — Vol. I, No. 1
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