Thursday, August 11, 2011
Asphalt Days -- Poetry 2011
heat rose from the baked asphalt
waving , a thousand waves
drifting into air heading back toward the sun.
tar smell assaulted nostrils as streets
melted under intense gaze of the orb.
remaining tacky until cooling breezes
move across the salt sound to bring relief.
complacent to sit and observe, she recalled
summer's at her grandmother's cottage.
swimming most of the day between meals
and the precautionary wait an hour...
rowing the boats, fishing, hiking in the woods...
cousins, aunts, uncles jammed around the table.
now she just sits in memory waiting for expiration...