Afternoon In Summer
Poem By Glenn Bagshaw
Cloud-popping, blue-raved summer sky
with light stuck out like a tongue:
you're the gorgon's gaze
to a warm, dry earth
charmed almost stone.
For voice the sweeping laugh
of wind's your way.
Even the morning-marvelling birds
are almost crazed in the bright wideness
of your tuned world.
They cry the sun-thrilled call of:
Sky! Sky! Sky!
Wings fling in tree-tipped reach of vaulted runs
sun-dialed in time-
Inches the touch of thrifty night-
and, with thumb smudged in shadows,
snuffs out the light.