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...


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