Poetry

You Move

by

John Robinson

Like the first
drawn breath

of a sunset or
a reflection

oversleeping in
the backyard

of an evening,

cool & stoned

in the company
of expensive

solitudes.

_______

When

by

John Robinson

Remember, as we would
the cool touch of dew
saturated apples

Dangling like green
moons before us,
swaying gently as

Chinese lanterns hanging
from a small vessel,
moving slowly up stream.