Crux of July

I. The skin of the sky sags on its bones, 
folds itself around us. It's starrier than ever
with the glitter of insect wings.

It's bitter, the first sip of liquor.
We're out on the rooftop, listening to
fireworks.. 

II. In the morning we pick lilies with red petals,
orange middles, and try not to stare back at 
the sun. The sun has pulled the puddles in 

so close they can't breathe they can only be 
breathed. Someday, they'll be raindrops, 
pooling back into puddles, 

feeding the sun, and they'll never be thirsty.

Reviews

[Clockwork]

What I have come to like so much about your poetry is your very fresh way of observing things. I think that translates into the images you create in a very striking way. In that first stanza, I like how you describe the sky. You're personification in that one brings to life what it is like to go through a humid night on East Coast. The glitter of the insect wings was a nice touch, and I really liked that you included that phrase.

That opening line of the second stanza shows of your descriptive abilities again, and how you can bring multiple senses into a poem.

My favorite part of this one is the second stanza in the second part of the poem. It was the kind of stanza that took my breath away because of its depth, descriptive qualities, and the overall truth that it bears.

Your vision is stunning as always Molly.

[Molly Cara]

Thank you so much for your feedback. You seem to have quite an ear for language, and quite an eye for imagery, and I am looking forward to reading your own work.