a collection of short summer verse
knee-deep in heat
with a straight and narrow .22
the sweaty reverend sweats
in his lawn chair
picking off the souls of the lost
grasshoppers
and I neither a dragon nor a fly
warm thunder heads
melting
hail
stone
eyes
and my waist
the shape
of this
heat
wave
time and the air turn thick
my turned wrists slit
with cicada song
and the sky turns
yellow and I just
I just
yield
this poem humbly offered up for OpenLinkNight at dVerse poets.
I love everything here but the last little poem...well, it caught my breath x
ReplyDeletewow some really cool verse...the thought of someone picking off grasshoppers witha .22 kinda makes me think of clint eastwood....the turned wrist slit as well...nice use of language...you gave me a chill there...
ReplyDeletewonderful weave here - could taste that heat as the 'sky turned yellow' - hugs Lib
ReplyDeleteReading them all as one, I loved it. Reading them separate, I loved each one. I could feel the heat with each line, especially with
ReplyDeleteI just
yield
Wonderful...and just HOT.
ReplyDeleteOh dear - pretty chilling. Very well written and understated though. k.
ReplyDeleteYou worked some magic here, created a heat wave I enjoyed. :)
ReplyDeleteGreat captures of the summer heat. The final stanza is my favorite!
ReplyDeleteI can feel the heat and hear the shrill song of the cicadas - beautiful glimpses of summer.
ReplyDeleteRead better a second time with a glass of iced tea..Whew! Really feel the steam of summer here. Nice!
ReplyDeleteThe first poem I found fabulous. It got me thinking. And for me that's the sign of a really good poem. Hope you'll visit my blog as well. I will watch for future works of yours at dverspoets.
ReplyDeleteUber groovy I loved the opening image of the reverend picking of the souls of lost grasshoppers the best, but it was all groovy. Peace.
ReplyDeletethanks for feeling the heat with me...beautiful poets all xo
ReplyDelete"And my waist/the shape/of this/heat wave." Why does this open me up, so? Lovely.
ReplyDelete