Coaxed into Idle Tides

In the Bone Structure of a Landscape
by Ben Nardolilli

The clear sky gives us license to be idle
So all of us are sinking into the grass
That brushes and waves against our bodies,
Today we can almost imagine
The earth is coaxing us to lie down,
Even if it is not a Sunday afternoon,
The week should be rearranged
So that tomorrow morning is a Monday,
Your black binoculars are almost gone
Under the tide of these rising wild blades,
And my basket of blueberries
Is barely staying afloat as well,
While our dog refuses to run in search
Of the source of some slight sound or smell,
The trees seem to be waving
Their branches at us for a brief kind of help
Or a recovery against the sleep
Which lies in the grass waiting for us all,
Even the sun is unable to keep
Its light rays from being pulled down,
Casting an extra slant to every lazy shadow.


Ben Nardolilli currently lives in Arlington, Virginia. His work has
appeared in Perigee Magazine, Red Fez, Danse Macabre, The 22 Magazine,
Quail Bell Magazine, Elimae, fwriction, THEMA, Pear Noir, The Minetta
Review, and Yes Poetry. He has a chapbook Common Symptoms of an
Enduring Chill Explained, from Folded Word Press. He blogs at and is looking to publish a novel.


Published by


I am a dreamer, as well as a doer, who lives in the North Georgia mountains. I started my publishing journey August of 2013, have had moderate success, but my utmost passion is my "daytime" job, which is working with adults who are constantly striving to better their lives as they obtain the GED credential.

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