by Michael H. Brownstein
After a black widow afternoon.
After heat thick enough to outline shade.
After dry wind and water laden breath.
After a weight of weather glues clothes and hair to skin.
After all of that
Evening brings the sweet taste of ocean salt,
Surf and sand, lotion and healthy skin, a volleyball
Floating away and the child watching.
Evening,
A primrose with moon light petals,
The coolness that comes only after day makes its peace,
And the old growth along the Missouri floats in the night air,
A coherent relief from the blisters of late afternoon.
The old married couple holds hands on the veranda,
Fresh lemonade between them,
Ice and memories as refreshing as Florida winding in.
July 20, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
-
▼
2009
(479)
-
▼
July
(37)
- Lovely and Dizzy
- South Bronx
- Hooked
- Verification of existence substantiated*
- Smalltown
- 2270
- THE MAD GIRL WANTS TO GET UP EARLY
- On The Train After World War II*
- for Bo Diddley*
- I’ll see if we’ve got one in stock
- double six
- NIGHT
- the weekend
- On A Poetic Roll
- A FLORIDA EVENING IN MID MISSOURI
- i hate my father
- she had eyes that could melt a hardened soul
- QUIT HOLDING IT IN
- THE SLAP LAP
- THE MAD GIRL DREAMS OF NEW MEXICO, WAKES UP SHAKING
- Hemingway’s Way
- FROM UNDER THE RENTED UMBRELLA, NINE DOLLARS PER HOUR
- THURSDAY WITH THE WINDOWS BOARDED
- Russian Strippers
- The Engagement
- tight red shorts
- FORSYTHIA
- A Prayer For Bosses And War Mongers
- A Flashy Beer Bar In Cincinnati
- Literary Expert
- THE MAD GIRL FEELS CUT OFF, SEPARATE, ISOLATED
- Honduras, 2009
- Just thought you should know
- THE MAD GIRL IS NOT AS UNHOOKED AS SHE SEEMS
- LIVING IN DARKNESS
- STUPID THINGS
- WAITING FOR MY PLANE
-
▼
July
(37)
0 comments:
Post a Comment