halcyon hours

Each halcyon hour
discarded by foolish
grins into the wastebasket.
The sunlit afternoons
spent in pine needles
and ginger ale.
Bodies imbued
with love and the
ineffable nature of
words. Each of
us struck the minutes
against the matchbox
and watched
their burning heads
drown in rain puddles.

A dulcet summer taste
hides beneath the tongue.
The scent of rain and soil
beneath our bodies
sweetly knocks at my
door as I walk along the
path. Now I schedule my strolls
and organize my poems
by hours and memories,
seconds and rhymes.

Each halcyon moment
we discarded with
grins among the reeds-
I think of them often.
On nights
when each scar of
the moon is made clear,
I sometimes capture a
fleeting memory in a jar
and tap the glass
until I fall asleep.