Art Is #Poetry

For H.

The night sky woke up all the stars-

like our own corner of my

grandfather’s American flag,

As the vast cornfield glowed softly

just quietly content on growin’ as

the air stuck to our faces

like a wet dishrag we call July.

We sat on the farmer’s porch

with my tattered jeans dangling

off the crumbling wooden planks for steps

and you asked me what art was. //

I chewed my lower lip as

You drew a heart in the dirt crumbs

left behind from our day’s adventure

from your dusty old boots.

The corners of my mouth moved

I turned to look into your eyes

and held your hand over my heartbeat

Just for a moment and then-

Tugged your hand into mine

to help you stand & slow dance with me,

While I pressed my heartbeat to yours

and shuffled my feet awkwardly.

I threw my head back and laughed

As you looked me so curiously

So I leaned in a bit closer and

brushed your hair the color of wet sand

out of your twinkling eyes

and crinkled my nose

and whispered in your ear,

“You, me and the chickens, that’s what-

It’s the sound of your old truck on the path,

the swish of the paintbrush on the fence,

and the moment a chick opens

her eyes for the very first time-

Art is everything.

Art is everywhere,

Art… is this” // as I tugged you closer for a kiss.

About Gretchen McIntire (formerly Leary)

I am 34 years old, I live in the Raleigh area, and I am writing from the perspective of an individual with Asperger's Syndrome.
This entry was posted in Autism and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to Art Is #Poetry

  1. Renee Espriu says:

    A beautiful poem, Gretchen. Enchanting.

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