Amber

I dwell in waves of grain.

Golden Julys.

 

Summer, glory of the sun.

I believe in the godliness of moments.

 

How could I not?

Look at this vast scape:

 

billowing clouds

lined in silver,

 

the torch of sunset

ablaze in reds and blues,

 

hummingbirds abounding,

glowing like youth.

 

I count the days

in the wing beats

 

of frail honey bees,

whom I love like tomorrow.

 

There’s no promise there.

They’re just concerned

 

with the flowers

along the way.

 

I stalk the stalks,

gliding among them

 

as a ghost for whom

nothing is everything

 

and everything that once was

is a final form of nothing.

 

This is the way I live,

floating through amber glades

 

as if the world has already ended.

Maybe it has.

 

I’ll revel in my Julys

even as August ignites.

Reviews

[Ezekiel Silver]

A great poem with incredible imagery and word choice. The beauty that is described here is captivating and rich in description. Nice work.