Heat

The fecund hum of the pond’s smell
Melts the heat of noon
Into a cradle of algae
and desiccated white goosefeathers,
Fossilizing
On the shore.
Streaks of tar
Melt in the sun
Liquefying
In the grooves of wooden beams,
Enclosing a set of steps
Leading down
And into
And stopping
Where the grass grows high
And full of small creatures,
Some of whom bite.
I’ll take my chances,
My bare legs slicked with organic
lemon ginger
Bug repellent,
Redolent
with warm fumes of citrus
In the hot breeze
where the four crows fly
Away from that tall tree.

copyright 2007 l.k. sorrells

Heat

Laurkat

Jasper, United States

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