T. K. Edmond
When stood a Summer King
days were laborious, long,
effortless.
When Lords of Dandelion reigned,
no word intention though it swam
in song.
In a kingdom of weeds and a host
of trees, muddy feet
and grassfire signal
season’s peak, and feasts and games.
The Sun God’s time
is come.
From an honored seat at the top
of the friendliest tree
seasons pass like dreams.
Hard air, hard times, hard men:
curses weird as moon and fire
on water.
Slow seeping contagions danced
and dined on the dark side of reflection.
Finery kept feet clean.
From the mud crept a castle;
from the sky fell a flood.
The driftwood
saw the world, found temporary tombs,
became stone,
and sank leagues
to where a summer king now sleeps
and some lords of dandelion
seem to lay low.
***
T. K. Edmond is a writer, musician, and graduate student in English at the University of Texas at Arlington. As a fifth generation Texan and a preacher’s son/grandson/nephew/cousin, he writes about beauty and cruelty colliding in odd corners of Texas–where the size and conception of ‘nowhere’ is beyond reckoning. He is interested in dream logic, dramaturgy, and the opposite of the middle. T.K. has poems in Novus Arts & Literature, Eastern Iowa Review, and Broad River Review.