"...the heat assumesthe shape of a familiar--a turtle, say, or a heron."
More Perihelion:
Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series
A
quick list to poets featured in this issue:
At Frog's Trailer Court
The 3 p.m. August heat A woman using the park's public phone,
seeps under the cars,
whipping the dogs,
baking the trailers
like loaves of bread.
wipes away the weary sweat,
fixing her eyes on a spot just above the asphalt
where for her, perhaps, the heat assumes
the shape of a familiar--a turtle, say, or a heron.
The heron might be blue,
standing in cool water.
_______________________________________________________________ The Guest
As if he lived here Grief walks into my room, plumping a pillow, adjusting a lampshade. He sits down. He puts his feet on the ottoman. _______________________________________________________________