By Amy M. Alvarez
Naturally, broken glass, throbbing bass, a roll of bills and a paper bag passed between the hands of...
Explore Poems: Summer
Showing 1-20 of 250 poems
- By Reginald Dwayne Betts[An Outline for a Film] A woman leans against a man who leans against a brick wall watching cars stop...
- By Alvin FeinmanThis this will it always be, and why To ever argue for: here walking In its life, or sprawled, or loitering...
- By Linda Rodriguezthat I smile too widely, grinning really, and laugh too loud and often; that I walk with spring and ...
- By Nikki GiovanniI always like summer best you can eat fresh corn from daddy's garden and okra and greens and cabbage...
- By Kwoya Fagin MaplesMy brother still bites his nails to the quick, but lately he’s been allowing them to grow. So much hurt...
- By Ed Robersonstrophe Faraway trains distant planes the din permeating streets of traffic sounds, but summer coming ’round ...
- By Annie FinchOur voices press from us and twine around the year's fermenting wine Yellow fall roars Over the ground. Loud, ...
- By E. E. Cummingswhat if a much of a which of a wind gives truth to the summer's lie; bloodies with dizzying leaves the...
- By Joseph MasseySober for once, for what— for the words to budge. We spent summer propped up by each other's stuttering...
- By Jose Hernandez DiazA mango fell from a tree into a jaguar’s paws. It was late summer. The jaguar devoured the fruit and...
- By Jose Hernandez DiazA jaguar sat in a tree. It was midsummer. The sun was shining fiercely. The jaguar was a golden color...
- By Robert WrigleyMore oblique the eagle’s angle than the osprey’s precipitous fall, but rose up both and under them dangled...
- By Kit FanIt was summer in Hokkaido. The forest stole the wind and I swallowed my footsteps. Nobody came to the...
- By Sy HoahwahIn the month of cleaning family plots, I learned football among graves. All summer, fangs were plentiful...
- By Alyse KnorrBetween us bobs the baby, solemn in her infant wet suit. The pool is the only place where screaming ...
- By Robert FrancisWhat I remember is the ebb and flow of sound That summer morning as the mower came and went And came...
- By Dana GioiaI can imagine someone who found these fields unbearable, who climbed the hillside in the heat, cursing...
- By Pimone TriplettDrippingly by grips, this humus and perlite nearly sings through my fingers circling the ditch lily’...
- By Jack SpicerWhat are you thinking about? I am thinking of an early summer. I am thinking of wet hills in the rain...