I HATE IT WHEN

by Michael H. Brownstein

My day ends in the custody
of a damp mop
and too many dishes,

When everyone I know
understands
only the stranger in me,

When night comes
like a hungry spasm
cramps
thick with sweat,

When a muscle bound
wind
takes out
the light of the butterfly.

A FLORIDA EVENING IN MID MISSOURI

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.