These are my seasons:
Silk
slippery and smooth
it does not stick
no matter how hot,
silent caress on my skin,
weightless, as if I were naked.
Silk is a surprise kiss,
goosebumps along my neck,
dinners and slow dances.
Cashmere
the soft, warm hug
I can wrap myself with
and daydream in
when you are not with me.
Cashmere is leaning back
against your chest,
feeling your heart beat,
fast then slow.
Linen
crisp, fresh breeze
my hair pulled up
off my neck
your hands circling
my hips like a busy bee.
Linen is lemonade,
swinging on a front porch,
our legs intertwined.
Interesting prompt by Brian over a Dverse Poets Pub on Thursday. In his post, Meeting the Bar: The Blind Poet, he encouraged us to write a poem using all of our senses except sight. This is what I came up with.
Lupita Eyde-Tucker is a bilingual poet and translator raised in New Jersey and Guayaquil, Ecuador. She is the winner of the 2021 Unbound Book Festival Emerging Poet Award, the 2019 Betty Gabehart Prize, and in 2018 was selected as an AWP Writer to Writer Mentee by poet Maggie Smith. In 2022 her poetry manuscript, "Eucalyptus," was a finalist for the Andrés Montoya Prize from Letras Latinas. The manuscript explores her Sephardic Jewish ancestry and bi-cultural heritage.
Not Enough Poetry 