Campfire Prologue (Three Flags for Summer)
I had plans to go camping come June,
someone promised. Once the bodies
been showing up the trees have been
off limits.
I cut the mouths out my kids books,
stuck them to the roof of my room
for stars. Spending hours in the garage
drinking, leering at yearbooks. I'll never go
lilypad leaping
again, no Summer solstice lanterns
lit aloft for this last call, just the
sweatshirt tree stalking come firefall.
My mask cuts deep into sleeping lovers
epitomizing folklore.
No comments:
Post a Comment