Andrew Dabar Poems

Another day
And soon, I'll be on my way
To a job that I hate
But I cannot be late
...

Late autumn wind
Whispering friend
You speak to my heart
Again and again
...

Cadmium air
Gray wash sky
Watercolor moon
Opaque smudge on the darkening canvas of approaching night
...

Tonight the High Plains are nothing but darkness. I will light them with the candles of my dreams.
____________
Andrew Dabar
...

Crape Myrtle hot pink
Breasts leak with late summer rain
On my upturned face
...

At a quarter past two
Moonlight so blue
Illumines her face
In slumbering grace
...

She looks at me from across the room, smiles, and looks away again. And then, it's business as usual for her. But my heart, it lifts and sinks. Like a curtain on the breeze. It lifts and sinks again and again.
____________
Andrew Dabar
...

She drops to her knees
And nobody sees
Unless there's a God
In the heavenlies
...

Innocent and unaware
Of all who've been swallowed there
Small children play at the mouth
Of a hungry behemoth
...

Sometimes it happens like a dream. Their lips had never met until that moment. Drawing her close, he kissed her carefully, thoughtfully, skillfully, his eyes wide open and locked with hers, brown on blue. They stood in the middle of a high meadow, knee-deep in wild flowers, before falling farther to the ground and further in love, their bodies completely hidden and exposed, both. The green grass, crushed by their weight, bled beneath them, staining their skin.

Yes, he remembers. Her hair was fragrant as clover spread all around; her skin salty and damp in the summer heat; her tongue and breath pink and sweet as mimosa; her fingers soft as a breeze before lifting his shirt like the hay wind. His head was buzzing—or maybe it was the bees swarming.
...