BLAIR SWANN

The Rusty Toque | Poetry | Issue 1 | July 2011

BLUSH

Swaying with the kneading breeze
Beneath light that makes
A freckled face out of the yawning green

I’m gently thrown through
Weightless berries dripping
Like spilled cream.

Above, the chatter-birds
And whisper-leaves
Arrest me with their simple speech

Like waking from some
Wayward dream or eating
Slowly some ripe peach.

And when the hush of rain
Makes airy chimes
Out of the hollows,

And then grows terrible
To roaring explosions in the sky
That set the air on fire,

I go pressing at the veil,
Blind in false sunshine,
Through those bloody bites--
That stinging kiss—a blush brushed
Across my skin.
BLAIR SWANN was born in Georgetown, Ontario but hopes to settle in Paris, France. He is slowly working towards being an author.