a poem by: jennifer
a blistering day
and i'm
taking refuge from the sun
by
sitting in the right side of the car
to avoid the burn.
and i have
the sliding door open
to let in the hot breeze.
while waiting to gather a babe.
from school.
an ice cube shifts in my tea
as it melts.
and i am watching a pincher bug...
or earwig if you will..
frantically crawling up,
down
up
down
pausing at a crack, on a weather beaten,
once orange
traffic cone.
i could only imagine he was desperate for water,
on his sun baked plastic island.
bordered by a swath of asphalt
and
cracked earth and dried foxtails.
and one wouldn't think
that the very next week,
the same she
who would fish out an ice cube
and give it to him
by placing it on his miserable island
(to keep him alive)
would step on his brethren.
intentionally.
seedlings to protect and all.
N ot
I n
M y
B ack
Y ard
am i.
guilty.
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