we were fond of lazing
in the simmering breath
of a southern spring’s long tail
floating drifting
in slow spirals then jumping
from sleep
flawless piscine
returning baubles the kind
that caress women the kind
who—chests ornamented—
gather over lunch
and later laugh at each other
surprising baubles completely
lacking in imperfections
like those women
like cherries
nestled among their pointed
droplets of foliage
hanging from the endless rows
of trees the kind
we used to see
from the rear window
of the Rambler station wagon
on long trips
through featureless farmland
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Photo credit: Curbsideclassic.com
No comments:
Post a Comment