PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

[the reader is respectfully asked to read the notation at the bottom of part 1]

The rural campus has enclosed small hills

at each edge, and a multitude of trees

with supple branches that seem to embrace

the sun.  In bed, on floors, or in a ring

in some back room, boys who are not yet men

suffer hangovers' savage turbulence.

For them, the moments of this afternoon

perish like naked pleasures without love.

Blood throbs through their headaches like thunderclaps,

as if stormclouds, not sunlight, fill the sky,

chanting in their dulled ears; but not in hers.

Content with their devotions---booze or drugs---

they cannot even know the fellowship

and joy of those grass stains on her bare soles,

or fragments of crushed leaves on her dark socks.