3 poems

by PJ Carmichael

On the way home, a bite to eat and songs
to fill the air, our voices in unison
as the journey continues.

Infinite Bliss

Dark chocolate. Honey Bunches of Oats.
Animal magic. She’s got peachy little bees
knees. Martini glass at the local eatery.
Dental floss on the bathroom sink. Between
state of consciousness, we dance around
the kitchen. Sweet tooth, kindling to start
the fire. Swimming in the big lake, mountains
in the distance, two ducks beside us. The
bright flashing lights and psychedelic sounds
of the world’s largest arcade. A boozy cruise
ship. Beautiful water in a high place. The
smile of the Great Spirit. Blessed beyond
measure. Film photographs of the sky, the
horizon, the boundless blue. A cottage behind
the haunted house. Moose tracks. Driving
through a thunderstorm. Jackpot. Filet mignon,
garden salad, Green Goddess. An unforgettable
climax. The ship stops to pick up passengers
standing on the dock, a slow and cautious
entrance. Shops along the pier. A grandmother
made of wax telling us our fortunes. Cotton
candy sunset in the sherbet sky. An
embrace in the gazebo. Mill Falls. Napping
on the warm sand. Pinball machines and
antique games. Watermelon gummies to
make us silly. Kellerhaus and numerous
gift stores. The comfort of an old sweat-
shirt and a breakfast buffet for the tourists.
On the way home, a bite to eat and songs
to fill the air, our voices in unison
as the journey continues.

Pine Tree State

A necklace with jasper pendant,
nail polish to match the amber

hue, my skull racked and reeling. We went
to the lighthouse yesterday, watched two

ducks float along the frigid waves,
took pictures of the immense slate-

grey blanket cast over our heads, the
blurred line between sea and sky,

misty vision and mental clarity. Picturesque
(as always) with a photograph of rosy

cheeks, wide smiles, loving arms, and
bright eyes to remind us of these previous

moments. White paint weathered by ocean
air, red roof with dormers by the rocky

coastline. The museum and gift shop were
closed, the remnants of the old fort

still standing on ninety acres adjacent.
(With spirited shivers, we shared warmth

and a view.) Today, we watch jewelry gleam
in winter sunlight, hold silver and gemstones

in the heat of a toasty home.


Wooden beams, soft pine floors,
large windows, many hallways, pots and pans,

a small pond in front of the house, hail
falling, wine glasses, double vision,

and floral notes.

(Be our guest.)

A friendly dog, loyal companion, sweet
girl. Music, slow and easy, opening

doors to other dimensions. Tie-dyed
T-shirts, ethereal whispers, a clean

countertop and wishful thinking. Freezing
temperatures throughout the night,

the hot tub warming our flesh and
bones. The celebration of another day

spent in good company, birch trees
with open eyes gazing lovingly at our

merry group, coffee cups filled to the
brim with life-giving liquid, time well

spent, bottles and a transparent blue jar,
dilated pupils as the room begins to breathe

and the mirror starts to swim.

© PJ Carmichael

[The poems were submitted for our monthly prompt Perfect Day.]

PJ Carmichael (he/him/his) is a writer, dreamer, idealist, and lover from Wakefield, Massachusetts. He is an avid outdoors enthusiast and enjoys exploration of the natural world. Through his writing, actions, and life experiences, he aims to inspire others to form meaningful connections and express themselves in a variety of creative and experimental manners.

Find him on Instagram at @masslovedistro.

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