The South

quiet bright 4:00 pm
curling heat waves inside my window screen
electric fan, stand still

this feels like a sweating glass of sweet tea on a creaky front porch swing

this feels like The South
The South
The South

growing up from watermelon vines
John Deer and scrawny dogs
falling off the back of a four-wheeler

this feels like a wooden ladder covered in lady bugs

jasmine spilling over the fence
and honeysuckle we eat gingerly like tiny beads
hot grass between my toes

this feels like the saddle leather smell in a barn closet

this feels like The South
The South
The South