Les Petites Morts vs Les Grande Peurs

In a society where nip slips and partial brief nudity
Are more taboo than drones dropping bombs in Syria

Prelude To Winter

I remember the way my eyes fell
When she told me she was going away
There is only so much time for love
She said before making her getaway

Poets Anonymous

Hi, my name is Cara and I am a poemoholic
It’s only been 24 hours since my last sonnet
And it’s been 13 days since the last time I’ve
used the words coruscant and tattered in a line

Summer Air

Clinquant melodies of scattering leaves and seed Soughing plaintively between sunburned hollows Like perfumed tiny tourists from a passing charabanc Their lilacs’ scent of sweet sillage lingers for a puff Leaving painted imaginary doodles of agitated air behind Foregathering in the wakes of napes, and marooned nooks Of plumped and ripened orange bursting splurt lily