This is a strip show,
a March
up and down
the hot and cold boardwalk.
We see a little tan
a covering
with strips of green
under a clear blue.
We believe in the dance,
allow it to excite, entrance –
our burning desire, inside,
poised to spring out and to life.
And then…
And then the unrelenting white sheath
descends again.
We are left wanting
yet a little longer.
Spring is a tease.
© 1995, Martin C. Fredricks IV
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash
Martin C. “Red” Fredricks IV here. I’m husband to an amazing woman who is also my best friend, dad to three outstanding kids, Fargoan (North Dakota, that is), proud introvert, veteran messaging strategist/copywriter, and big-time reader. As they say, if you're gonna write good stuff, you have to read good stuff. A ginger, too - ergo the "Red" - although some of it's going white. Cinnamon-Sugar, I call it. Tattooed to boot; seven so far. At age 54, I'm stilling crankin' AC/DC & Metallica, but now and again I spin some Eric Church and Black Uhuru, too. I love hanging out with my (much) better half, spending time with our kids, writing, hiking, riding my mountain bike and reading.
I will tell you the thing / I will never forget. / Watching them die / in breathless regret...
Let me tell you how bad it is: / Last week / my neighbor was out in the field / trying to get some kind of crop in. / He got stuck….
First published in the Fall 1995 edition of "Reflections," a quarterly by Wordshop Publications in Conway, Ark.
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