Afternoon – Page 17

nothing left at home
save the old chair and sofa
that I brought with me
–
vacant memories-
cobwebs cling
to empty shelves

one flame extinguished
while another adds it’s light
to the firmament
–
eyes downcast-
black armbands
wet with rain

searing hot asphalt-
children splash in the water
from a cracked hydrant
–
heavy branches-
in the shade
a rope swing

a laboring fan-
august heat makes fonder my
memories of snow
–
summer sun-
my verdant lawn
sere and brown

old invitations-
coffee’s brewed in the kitchen
if you’d ever show
–
rising steam-
cozy dreams
of coffee shops

blackbirds in the trees-
pebbles left on your headstone
in remembrance
–
knees in the soft earth-
I clear away
the weeds and leaves

frosted azure skies-
the curves of a white dragon
taken by the wind
–
pencil thin clouds-
the ocean reaches out
to touch the sky

atop cotton sheets
the drone of the ceiling fan
keeping me awake
–
sleeping dogs-
paddle fans spin
in lazy circles

reading into my
masochistic tendencies-
our old love letters
–
grimy windows-
a metal fan
stirs the air

the whiteness of bone
long buried in the desert
revealed by the wind
–
summer evening-
dogwood petals
in the grass