Like lingering aromas
Of baking bread
Of newly discovered
Rustling tissue paper
Hiding wanted gifts
Of streets steaming
By summer rains
Of shushing tires
After thunder storms
Of white blankets
Bathing northern pines
Of orange moons
At harvest time
Of acrid smells
In hay lofts
Of espresso’s fingers
Tickling early mornings
Of the plumpcity
In children’s cheeks
Of the first
Wet lapping kiss
From a puppy
These always remain
As they were
Simply deliciously fresh
Upon eating ice-cream
We lose taste
Within two minutes
Then it’s simply
Cold and smooth
Has this happened
To you with
These simple words
That I write
Have they suddenly
Just become cold
And smooth and
Always there expected
Or do they
Still dance tickling
You like fingers
Over your ribs
Or the seldom
Seen yet always
Ah’d shooting star
Or have they
Become another pair
Of worn shoes
Or the umbrella
Left for storms
Or the dusty
Out of tune
Instrument of yesterday
Tell me honey
Do these words
Still toll sweetly
From far off
Steeples reminding you
Of time gone-by
If not I
Shall keep writing
Not to you
But with you
In mind for
You my love
Are always here
On these pages
If nowhere else
Standing before you
Naked not unclothed
But only truthful
Does not take
Courage but trust
To see me
Like this just
As I am
Places my self
In your hands
Either drop me
Flailing like fish
Or hold me
Like your own
I’d rather you
See me thus
For whatever else
You imagine you
See I simply
Cannot undo any
Easier than placing
The fallen rain
Back into clouds
In the world
There are periods
Commas semi-colons colons
Also question marks
And exclamation points
All word rudders
Steering the eye
From wandering off
Or meaning beacons
Drawing thoughts close
Home to shore
Me I rarely
Use them preferring
You to follow
Only my voice
As I lead
Through the forests
Of my imagination
Leaping from craggy
Cliffs to surf
Hopelessly breathlessly wanton
With you there
Exhausted and laughing
At poems door
Early morning sun
Poked through trees
Splashing the street
With yellowed white
Every green imaginable
Captured before you
Like wildly grinning
Children caught off-guard
Zoe on leash
Prowled like thieves
Foraging for breakfast
Your shadow there
Danced like ghosts
Thinking of me
This morning’s walk
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 