(untitled 2)A Poem by Floundering AboutYou can already feel summer folding in on itself maybe because you know what day of August it is or because of the hot, spent air or because all your calls go to voicemail or because you exhale or because of the stillness. Sure, you could go exuberantly to the lake to laugh and splash but even the bottom of the lake --a reservoir, really-- would be so orange.
© 2010 Floundering About |
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