It can be subtle

There is her fret of pout and stare.
Off into the early Evening elms,
Littered with starlings,
Noisily jostling for night warmth.

It seems subtle, yet subtle is a tricky
Word.  S-U-B-T-L-E: suttle. See?
How cleverly hard.
Gentle push, indiscernible hint.

Subtly the smoke curls from her fingers.
Softening light sleeps along her pale wrist.
Green spring peepers whistle in chorus.
Faint breath of breeze brushes hair.

At last she mutters her timid apology,
A secret code, thrust bare into
Early evening air, as feathered rows cloak
BlackOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA branches, and she leans into me – subtly.


About Pitboss14

Cosmic surfer of paradoxes.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s