Morning Dew

As I drive this prism of roadway,
the blacktop blurs,
bending both light and air,
returning last night’s rain
to the hazy skies.
Already, the blistering sun glows hot,
a golden jewel against a blood-red dawn.
The fields wear their late-Spring coverlet,
a low-napped living emerald,
seasoned with billions of glistening chips
of hot June morning.
I’m reminded at every turn,
except the one I should make,
of leaving her bed, her covers of green,
where I kissed goodbye
the diamond dewdrops that sparkled
above her lips, awakening me
to another steamy sunrise.

I wrote this poem in response to a prompt from my friend Brian Miller, asked for a poem about the sun or heat, or using them as a metaphor. Once again, because my imagination and I can never make a defiinite decision, I did all of the above.  Is it hot in here or is it just me?

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13 thoughts on “Morning Dew

  1. Another brilliant take on the prompt Joe! Hoping to pen my own, but balancing everyone else's vacation time seems to be wrecking havoc now! Loved how descriptive and spellbinding this was…took me away from the office on a heck of a roadtrip with the sun shining bright in my eyes! Thank you! (and yes, my friend…it's hot in here!lol)

  2. for some reason it felt like a hot night and then a cool morning ? The colors were wrong maybe ? Or is it I didn't know what the glistening chips were. I really liked it. It rolled over with the heat of a day and time, very lovely, just got confused when I read below the poem. Maybe delete or edit that. (not the poem, I think the poem is perfect, I like the emerald green and not knowing what the chips are 🙂

  3. Why did I not comment on this little beauty before? Gorgeous poem, Joe, reminding me of 'hot June mornings' while curled up under the duvet on this cold November day…(loved the reading too) 😉

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