solstice song – Fritz Eifrig

 

after braiding quicksilver

across our steaming skins,

whispers stilled for sleeping,

eyes closed quiet, I turn to look at you,

like I always do.

your form fixed, silent waves of wood

polished gleaming by the moonlight,

one arm sloped to shield from stars,

modesty made foolish by the heat tonight.

and I dream through open eyes

of lives beginning without endings,

like I always do.

 

Fritz Eifrig has been writing poems on and off for several decades. He has been published in Poetry Quarterly, and the Hiram Poetry Review. He lives and works in Chicago.

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February 20, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: Chicago, creative, creativity, dreams, endings, eyes, Fritz Eifrig, hope, life, moon, moonlight, nature, night, poem, Poetry, relationship, sky, solstice, stars, US, whispers, wood, writing Leave a comment

when in april… – Fritz Eifrig

 

rain, again,

from twilight skies.

echoes of my

past, signals

of those days to come.

nodding yellow crocus

flashes semaphore.

there, another, purple,

shivering,

closed as for night –

these too tell me

of you.

 

falling

water conjures the wet

sound of my name

choking in your throat

like a bite

of rotten peach.

those tears, here

mirrored along

peering iris blades,

pooling onto dirt.

pain feeds growth,

sadness made manifest in these

fragile blooms.

 

wet birds dart

into shadowed trellis shelter.

rain, again.

 

Fritz Eifrig has been writing poems on and off for several decades. He has been published in Poetry Quarterly, and the Hiram Poetry Review. He lives and works in Chicago.

 

February 10, 2017 by foxglovejournal Categories: Poetry, UncategorizedTags: birds, Chicago, colour, creative, creativity, echoes, falling, flowers, fragile, Fritz Eifrig, growth, nature, past, poem, Poetry, rain, sadness, shelter, sky, US, water, weather, writing Leave a comment