Summer Theatrics

Dragonflies stuck to my jacket

[a choice showing a lapse

of temperature] in apathetic

fashion. Papa complained of

aching bones as we were burdened

by the air of August. I held fireflies

the way leaves hold rain. Flares of lunar

energy seemed to break through

[though it was only bio luminescence]

to ignite rounds of a chorus in the jar.

Si tragga altrove–legatto then

released. Papa played Donizetti

and I battled twilight.

papa laughed heavily to the sound

of aging lungs, but it was not held in–

sporadic, contrast to the clouds.

We sat on steps, watching

the heat lightning wage a riot. My dress was

second skin–humidity weighs you down,

y’know. I clung to rain droplets as the clouds

burst, adding a layer of moister to Papa’s

lip. He put a hand on my shoulder.

as I released the fireflies–their operatic flight

towards the familiar luminescence brought a chill

to my hands. Welcomed rain in one palm,

wrinkled skin in the other.

 

(written in Jan 2010)

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