Midsummer

water at dawn
runs by fingertips
onto cold stone
as a robin intones
ripe throated
staccatos
that bounce
along walls
that have seen it all

can one
be happy
wasting a day
inspecting the gap
between taste
and ability
under giddy sun
that announces all
with just a few
spare syllables

I made my song
to enchant the night
like Scheherazade
striving to hold off
the encroachment
of a decree
but I come apart
from the seams
snagged
on the narcissism
of nostalgia

those bright
waterfalls of dust
continue to gather
in fine heaps
by the curtain
and a brown river
smokes on
eddying
inscrutably
in the deep

we are
migratory animals
who never
really move
I won’t live
this day again
though I
live it again
a thousand times

Reviews

[alanwgraham]

This is very classy poetry Beano. You have great skills at putting succinct and well chosen words together. Your poetic whole is more than the sum of the parts. The narcissism of nostalgia rings true. Living in the past can feel indulgent at times but is the poet's burden. Carpe Diem is a tough ask.
Well done on this and I'm speaking from a position of some jealously.
Cheers,
Alan

[Beano]

Thank you for your generous comment, Alan! Very kind! Best, Jamie.