Poem Category: Seven lines

Picnic.
full sun
on glass top lake
the laddered Pines,her hand
behind the boat,the lunch
spread on damp grass,the wine we drink
still cool

Autumns.
come with
fallen gold leaves
the hearty soups,the greys
that stretch to days,the smells
walks bring in rain,the dews that shine
silk webs

Stranded.
beach fizzed
with slapping waves,
the seaweed smells,the yells
inside the wind,the crowd
in gathered boats,the fight to save
all whales

Once.
to waste
be wild with drink,
the rakish talk,the struts
into the bar,the scorns
I turn to fights,till one by one
they fall

Forever.
spring grows
just four green things,
the bursting buds,the grass
the sparrows peck,the moss
stains to old trees,the love of each
first kiss

Rear-view.
don’t look
and yet you must
the smoking tyres,the calm
before the smash,the eyes
that stare you back,her pig-tail head’s
first jolt

Jogging.
last tree
still sunset red,
the birding cats,the swing
the child kicks high,the kite
above the park,the smell of meals
comes night

Forest.
with mists
come silent things,
the egg warm nests,the mould’s
slime of the leaves,the thrust
the mushrooms make,the sun on dawn’s
first hour

Recalled.
in thoughts
the swaying swing,
the lighted porch,the smile
of the first kiss,the lives
we talked to share,her curls of hair
I smell

Attic.
suns fade
the childhood things
the gingham dress,the hat
that names the school,the sash
the swimmer won,the music sheets
from class