Stone Soup Croutons is a weekly poem I write using lines and impressions picked up from poems overheard from Stone Soup's open mic readers and features. I figure out a title (and sometimes the rest of the poem) later. You can read the other ones I've done since 2015 here. To paraphrase Lorne Michaels, this poem doesn't go up because it's ready, it goes up because it's Friday morning.
Last night's was Stone Soup's appreciation open mic. A quiet night, leading to a (maybe) quiet poem. No long intro. I'm still tired from last weekend. And last month in general. Thanks for reading.
Once Scene
Loons pick trophies
from the last party's
literal watering hole
Jesus and Magdalene
came together. People
only took selfies
while the crickets
put down their legs
and stopped to stare.
Magic fades after
initial I was there.
No one's been back.
Maybe it's best
we only recollect
the butterflies
in the way of
nature pictures
we didn't take.
 |
| They were there. |
Special thanks to Lo Galluccio, John Lane, Martha Boss, E.S., Bil Lewis and Laurel Lambert.
No comments:
Post a Comment