Summer Songs

One

it’s the second day of rain

and summer has thoroughly run away from the challenge

sidewards winds turn up to dinner at the wrong time

to drive on the coastline is a reminder of the dangers of depth and

the washing machine of mess

shin bones splinter

noses run

puppies get stuck in hair

it rains on.

Two

heat that blisters

cement turns back to liquid

bodies are puddles

the breeze of an exhaust pipe is consolation prize

the wind seems to have gotten lost

summer rolled back in with fists

swung its weight around claimed the date got it wrong.

Three

birds and bugs are the only soundtrack

surround sound hifi buzz nothing is ever still or whole

pink petals of see through skin keep the sun from setting in on the tiny roof

the tiny home is warm baked bread on the counter natropathic teas on the bench, stained glass windows that swings open and hardwood lines

for once the inundation on the eye is gentle.

Four

The lightning came at midnight broke itself

against the gale running the other direction

the rolls of thunder were more swell than snap

and outside metal and plastic bent themselves for a visible god.

nothing tied down was safe

what are humans when the lines are cut?

Five

the endless sea of grass

the endless world of grains of earth

there is only so far the eye can zoom

therefore so much to miss in the shadows of leaves

we so often omit their tears

Six

the seasons have lost their call sheet

arrive too cold for the night

and too hot for balance

all is a pendulum.

Seven

the pieces of ash dance like drunk butterflies

the sticks collapse

as orange tongues turn back the observers

the heat is not summoned by need but

all is black in the end

all give in to time with the air to burn

there are few tears in a fire.

but plenty of smoke to drown in

Eight

this house does not sleep always moving in the night or when you aren’t

looking life litters the pavement as sacrament to the inevitable decay of memory

a toy spews itself over a glass that tripped over the last lover’s fight

grown over gardens offer their fruit to the laundry on the fence

all the leaves on the left wave hello

the right doesn’t know the right time to say goodbye.