July
TYPE
PoemOne summer day I was boiled and salted
like a peanut. I was the meat
in a heat sandwich, the dog in a hot.
I was the crimson crayon
Melting in a sunny car,
the colour of firecrackers and flags
and Mars, where once the water
cooled the red stones.
Finally the sun set
and someone let the crickets out,
then opened the firefly jar.
The darkness filled with blinking stars
like whispers for my eyes.
© Ted Kooser & Connie Wanek, from Marshmallow Clouds, Walker 2022