Sidewalks littered near bus
benches
Flaking off
crushed
scattered glitter brown
leaves
There are no seasons here
but
The leaves die and shatter
Thick marmalade sun lies in
wait
to dance and reel
on clear hollow bubbles
clinging to green yellow
paper thin blades of grass
Soaking into leather
and mettle
Lingering especially on the
tops of car doors
below the window
where you put your arm and
burn it
There are no lines yet
Of cars or in grocery stores
It’s still early
but there will be
Early and late
That’s when it’s quiet
around
here
And sometimes in the
afternoons
Signs sputter on
like boiling water pouring
from a half filled kettle
Stinging window panes
reflecting mercilessly
into the flat sky
We can see them and us
Roaming & indecisive
& thin
in the heat dry morning
Here
***
Morgan Drolet is the inexplicable extra pieces left over after the assemblage of Swedish decor.
***
Morgan Drolet is the inexplicable extra pieces left over after the assemblage of Swedish decor.
