storms throb
through the warm plaster
of damp air
blessing the end of this summer
with belated dog days
that nonetheless
bite deep and wet
into the weary soul
you love this horrible weather?
your folk must come
from Memphis where everyone
moves like smudges
through the atmosphere
so like the humid corruption of soul
Content (c) 2008-2015 Philip Milito.
No comments:
Post a Comment