Poem Number 19124

summer of the spiders

searching for water, maybe,
or just escaping the heat.

during the tense tight months
with scant and fleeting moons
leaving their blur in the sky

we would stretch exhausted bones
on cool hardwood, seeking to absorb the
coolness and change
temperature, like night lizards on pavement.

staring up at the ceiling with the frightened moon
perpetually glowing through screen door portals

first one, then two and three
clinging to an early 1900s popcorn ceiling
in the eerie light

i'd reach over and tickle his hot and moist arm then,
and he would laugh.

amber
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vivid visual. - N