JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

Timely hints remind
small movements
of things to come
crouching unnoticed
in corner of the day
they jump out in front of
accidents, phone calls,
letters from forgotten
old friends, and turning a corner
they suddenly appear
spread out in their lushness..

A broad expanse of lawn
leading through the trees
to a sketchy mansion
trimmed hedges encasing
showcased colors of flora
children playing croquet
on the grass, their laughter
and the ball clicking
through the hoops
across the room…

A scent of faces
swishing fans wafting across
painted lips and eyelashes
polite as the upright
bustled young girl
straight as a bouquet
at the harpsichord
playing a Bocherini minuet
so clear
so crystal sharp…

 

The fragrance of the notes
lingers in my ears
as I turn the corner
step off the curb
tap tapping into the clicking
memory of today’s metronome
- a traffic light for the blind
clicking, remembered
across the crossroads of time