in poppytowns — a tiny poem









in poppytowns were the grass green girls

dancing through the high hills, summersong’d

bursting into laughter like blooms

that fifteenth year, the vibram of the soles


the overalled girls stomping

muddyboots, the spinning under sun

the tromping, under rain

little tropes

the sleepyhearts

almost as if the forest itself were giggling


in poppytowns did they dance their years

in skirts of orange and skirts of white

the clashclang of symbols spilling

notes along what seemed like moors

defiant cyclists, later unicycling


in poppytowns the boys went off to war

went to other borders

went north to canada

went south to mexico

flew like birds,

flew away flying underspacesun


all in all and each to each

keen songs, keen recorders

the ribboned times the jestering

in the bud

the flowers fullsome


listless the lost hearts

lost elegy

lost limbs, lost leaders

listless the following generation’s cry

it’s madness marching


sweet doves we knew our collective coo

that treasure as we flocked

in poppytowns

our youth, all clustered


in poppytowns


*this is a start only today — will revisit so not a finisihed poem by a longshot!

ps: need to edit the below and don’t feel like it right now!

am in process of making rather large and inevitable decsions in the mo.

good ones.




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