Tag: melons

Dog Days

On these dog days
beneath the haze
I can barely hear
the wordless voice
of the shy creature:

Stay with me.

The summer air is soupy
with memory and conflicting auspices.
The mouth quavers, anticipating
melons. The mind is lazy and eager
to be anywhere else.

Clouds form and chase …
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How do we know
the presence of the Friend
draws near?
On a stump
at the edge of the field, someone
is opening a melon.
Every body knows.
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