By Craig Kirchner
Originally Published in Chiron Review, Summer ‘24
Sparrows gathered on the veranda,
we eavesdropped on nearby lovers,
hand fed one another tapas,
swigged lewd licks on Czech beer.
Under the table you hiked your skirt,
opened your thighs around my knee,
animated codes with delicate hands,
laughed about our first time.
Surrounded by leg, birds, crumbs,
and curious voyeurs
wanting to share your smile,
hungry to stay young, touched,
needing a subtle strangeness
with an afternoon break.
Craig Kirchner is retired and living in Jacksonville. He loves the aesthetics of writing, has a book of poetry, Roomful of Navels, and has been nominated three times for a Pushcart. Craig’s writing has been published in Chiron Review, Academy of the Heart and Mind, Main Street Rag and dozens of others. He houses 500 books in his office and about 400 poems on a laptop; these words help keep him straight. Craig can be found on Bluesky
Academy of the Heart And Mind 