Picnic in the Air ~ a plein air poem for summer

Picnic in the Air

 

 

Where gravity is suspended

by late-afternoon.

Leaving you free to picnic

or frolic past sunset,

moonset,

at any altitude you desire,

on deep cushions of air.

Round an awning-striped

tablecloth spread

weightlessly,

elegantly

with cold, blushing

bottles of wine,

hard and soft cheeses,

cow and goat

from France and Spain;

wildly crusty loaves

of bread, whose crumbs

drift off here and there

on the breeze

to feed peckish passing birds.

Wrinkled olives,

ripe berries,

sparkling water;

bubbling laughter

and languid pleasure

over the floating feast.

 

 

 

Colin Goedecke

Convent Station, New Jersey

July, 2016

Snowfall, a poem for winter

Snowfall

 

 

It powders down

onto the heads and shoulders

of men, houses, and horses,

whitens the teeth

of picket fences,

lathers the bristled faces

of Northern forests.

It boughs down

to the outstretched arms

of trees, tongues of children,

the folded wings of sleeping owls.

Confettis down

past millions

of living room, bedroom,

office, train windows,

seen and unseen.

Swirls down

in great silence,

eloquence;

with pure, hushing,

comforting presence.

 

 

©Colin Goedecke

January, 2014

by Central Park

New York City