Forbidden cricket song
hills of grassy fields without mowing,
resonate a gushing spring worth welling,
your hairy shanks tonight slide
against me, hidden by cuff of jean,
vegetation’s swelling I know
mother nature’s maestro
no feline stomach could play
poetry scraping me to sleep.
Author Note: it is not that i enjoy seeing leg hair or anything, but the intimacy of the comfortable is so beautiful and trusting. if i ever get married, my wife will be most beautiful when she wakes up next me with bad breath and her hair awry
About the author
I live with my wife, an artist, in Indianapolis. Besides poetry, I like to take photographs, read books, travel overseas, and listen to news/political podcasts, college lectures and classic literature. You can read about my approach to poetry on my poetics page. To stay in touch, follow me on Twitter or connect on a variety of other social networks.
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