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Array
(
[sid] => 155957
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => My Favorite New Paltz
[time] => 2009-12-15 17:43:06
[hometext] => This poem has references to a small town in upstate New York called New Paltz, for instance Shawgunk Ridge is just a famous cliff in that town. Also some references to mythology. enjoy =]
[bodytext] => I throw my head back as the sun warms my face. The brisk golden air tastes like pumpkin pie. I need a sweater. I can hear the breeze rustling the leaves, it sounds like the wind is biting into a firm crisp apple. Far beyond on the horizon I see Shawgunk Ridge, still green but with hints of the emerging bronze nymphs that in a few weeks will gild the trees. I can see Native Americans of times long before dancing on the ridge, their annual harvest season dance, in beaded deerskin moccasins. Like the ones I'm wearing. Suddenly I know the Great Spirit! It is the sun patch Lulu lies in, that illuminates her amber fur, Her moist brownish nose nuzzled between her paws. She closes her eyes as a docile wind ruffles her hair. She, in all her glory, belongs here as much as the heavy apple orchards my friends and I will soon pick. As much as the tall maize stalks that will soon be roasted and eaten out of the husk. She is a bronze nymph of the season. The sun today is not that one I knew in the summer, garish and hot. Not that one that will come in the winter, small and bright, but deceitful. Not the one from the spring, shy and temperate. Today the sun is Ra, gentle but commanding, giving shades of caramel and copper to the water and the grass, low, riding the wing of the southbound falcon, hiding so that i may taste the cold, but always merciful, returning to hold my hand. The first toasty leaf falls on my page. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 161 [topic] => 43 [informant] => gonz [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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