Golden thorns and amber are in the honeysuckle sangria like bees. Pine needles bleach their emerald fezes blonde. Gold is in the wind: peach wine and myrr with honey. 

Glitter on the still, olive oil 

creek, deep holy green 

like the glass of bottles filled with sparkling water.

Deep holy green, like allspice summer in hospice fading. Anise star and nutmeg curl summer up, like steam, as she takes her last breath.

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “Allspice Summer

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s