Tuesday, 25 September 2018 13:53

August 2018 Poems

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With the whoosh of the burner firing

I look up and see a hot air balloon

Floating in the air and it looks so odd

Suspended in the sky and there is the


Burst of flame and the rise of the balloon

And the gradual drifting and there are

The other balloons too peopling the

Sky but the people are too far to see —


Only on the cloudless days of summer

Do balloons appear in such festive colors

And I imagine the bouncing ride and

The view of the river on a sunny


Afternoon and there is no purpose for

The ride except for the effervescence.


What does the

valley look like with the sun

sparkling on the river

and reflecting off the windows

of the moving cars?




I didn’t feel the heat of the morning

Until the little black fly with green eyes

Landed on my arm and walked about with

Little legs over the fine hair on my


Arm — and I discovered not wanting to

Expend the energy necessary

To flick it away so I just watched it

Instead and noticed the slightest tickle —


And a little while later a tiny

Black ant proceeded to explore my arm

Too and I noticed the tickle again —

And the ants and the flies have as much right


As I do to enjoy the summer air

But I won’t give the mosquitoes a pass.


As the air becomes

hotter even in the shade

of a tree I start

to feel a little dizzy

and warmer inside and out.



There is a video on Facebook of a

Couple of kids after a down pouring

Of rain who have goggles for swimming and

And a bicycle and some muddy ground



And one of them gets on the bike and grips

The brakes and the other kneels behind the

Back tire and while wearing the goggles with

Much joyful expectation he says “go”


And he is covered by a spattering

Of mud — which is an improvement of the

Jackson Pollack style — because Jackson was

Dripping paint on canvas by himself and


Jackson never did escape depression

But the boys together were jubilant.









This is not the time for cherry blossoms

And the cherry trees already produced

Their cherries for the season — so I do

Not know why I am thinking about the


Cherry blossoms — while we are entering

The mild and lazy ending of summer

Except that the beautiful flowering

Of spring is so beautiful because it


Marks the release from the cold of winter —

And we are on the verge of colder days

And grey clouds moving precipitously

Are dominating the sky and the wind


Is tossing about the leaves and I am

Remembering and anticipating.


The apples on my

apple tree are almost ripe

and this is the first

year I sprayed the apples to

keep the insects away.


Read 1328 times Last modified on Sunday, 13 January 2019 11:58
Barry MacDonald

Editor & Publisher of the St. Croix Review.

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