Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Analgesic




The air is a hot
still blanket.
It fills my lungs
with the opium
of summer.
I drift.
Bird song is a
clamor
I can’t ignore.
I breathe it in
with the warm air
and drift.
Closing my eyes
I inhale verdant
and exhale pain.
Liquid bones
don’t groan
as they greet
one another.
They float
in that same
felted heat
where
I drift.

This is a one shot Wednesday poem. Go here to check out other poets.

15 comments:

  1. well you obviously have the same weather we have had the last couple days...breathing burns...and so do my shoulders...will be keeping my shirt on in the coming days...

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  2. It'll be so worth getting that hip fixed!

    Your poem was, well, beautiful and haunting.

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  3. Dear The Bug,
    This reminds me so much not just of pain, but the euphoria when pain goes away.

    Very Imagistic and sensual. I think Ezra Pound would be proud.

    Thanks for sharing!
    Ann T.

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  4. Oh, I wish! Beautifully done.

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  5. You have beautiful language and imagery in this poem, Dana. Well done.

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  6. You are so ready for that hip surgery! The mugginess here has been awful too. Feels like August! Ick!

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  7. you make it sound like nature and sunshine is your drug of choice ...love it thank you

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  8. Yes the heat is anything but sweet
    And your write about it was really neat
    The weather can cause grief
    Or it can make you content as you watch a falling leaf
    Enjoyed the read
    Really nice indeed

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  9. I found myself drifting along with you....
    I do enjoy warm weather!

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  10. i could relate in too many ways. . . scary :-) nice read.

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  11. and so it begins.

    the heat and humidity have arrived early this year but my ferns are in heaven.

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  12. Those hot steamy summer-like days of spring sure takes the breathe out of you...nice write.

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