Minor Reflections from Everlasting Remembrance by Billy Plant

Summer sunshine on your hair
Fades as September slips away
turning leaves blow wild and free
on a crisp autumnal breeze
Packing away sandals and swimming trunks
The clothes we took off for summer's heat
As boots and flannel come back once more
I see the tan lines on your feet
Lavish lines on your breasts and thighs
Where your swimsuit and your skin did meet
The last of summer's brown skinned tan
Fades away in the glow of gold and crimson leaves.

Bitter hot instant coffee
Sipped under redwoods:
Tall writers of the clouds
Pine-scented oracles with a story to tell

Short poems aren't long enough to lose yourself in on the beach or sitting inside reading on a rainy day.
Short poems are good for the long haul of forever, because they get stuck in that place in the brain just past learning:
the place where recurring inspiration dwells,
or comfort,
or solace,
or peace.
Our lives are epic poems with short passages worth remembering:
she was a girl whose name I whisper
she was a dog whose memory is forever in my heart
she was a steep mountain where my mind was clear
she was a river where I learned to love Nature.

And if you only take one thought from this poem of the passage of my life and what I think is important, then let it be this:

I reach out my hand to pluck the golden orb of the ripe peach.
But my fingers are only long enough to scrape the refreshing dew on its lustrous skin. So I smell the sweetly nectarized air and hold the fruit only in my mind, where it is surly sweeter than any peach ever tasted.

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