After drinking beer with mandy
bRANDIE tRENT
The sun is a slice of summer melon
ripening and juicy before I can open my dusky eyes.
My muscles yawn
joints whisper to me of my aging
and of the previous evening
under the straw umbrella
of the porch
of a transplanted cantina
with the wild girls of a college town.
I could have been on another planet
and alien to the after-bedtime darkness I haven't seen
since I slipped off my maiden name
and buttoned up my white collar.
Now,
coffee comes in clay mugs
is made luke warm with heavy cream
in the safe quiet of my three bed two bath
Here,
in the rocker where I nursed three strong sons,
I survey the landscape of this homeplace:
keys on the kitchen counter
rings in the soap dish
fingerpaints on paper
fingerprints on porcelain
Later,
in the shower,
I peel off layers
of knats
and sweat
tequila talk
and rum-drenched reminiscing
peel down hard
to what I really am.
ripening and juicy before I can open my dusky eyes.
My muscles yawn
joints whisper to me of my aging
and of the previous evening
under the straw umbrella
of the porch
of a transplanted cantina
with the wild girls of a college town.
I could have been on another planet
and alien to the after-bedtime darkness I haven't seen
since I slipped off my maiden name
and buttoned up my white collar.
Now,
coffee comes in clay mugs
is made luke warm with heavy cream
in the safe quiet of my three bed two bath
Here,
in the rocker where I nursed three strong sons,
I survey the landscape of this homeplace:
keys on the kitchen counter
rings in the soap dish
fingerpaints on paper
fingerprints on porcelain
Later,
in the shower,
I peel off layers
of knats
and sweat
tequila talk
and rum-drenched reminiscing
peel down hard
to what I really am.