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Sunburn April 16, 2013

Posted by aquillam in poetry.
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An hour past mid-day
it is 62º
but it is the warmest, 
sunniest day
so far this year.

Looking down on the lawn
students are in short sleeves or shorts
playing frisbee

You are laying on the grass 
in a short black skirt,
high heeled boots
pretending to pay attention 
only to your cell phone
which you hold up
so you can watch
a boy playing frisbee.

From 9 stories up
I can see 
4 inches of bare thigh
beet red
and I wonder
if you thought about the long winter
when you put that outfit on.

daffodils April 13, 2009

Posted by aquillam in poetry, writing.
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The daffodils are starting to bloom, which always make me think of my grandfather, reciting Wordsworth.

Daffodils in the Arb

I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o’er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
and twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretched in never-ending line
along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
in such a jocund company:
I gazed – and gazed – but little thought
what wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.