Sarah Rosenblatt - Poetry
Reprinted with permission of the author.
ONE SEASON BEHIND
The coming together
of two people
in the middle of a house.
Their middles touching.
The trees outside
mingle with the plants inside.
Light comes through the screens
and swirls into the hairs on the cat's back.
Here they are--the summer at its height,
yet they feel like they are just beginning
to poke through
As if most of July hadn't just blown
in and out of the trees and the mouths of the cats
asleep in the red chairs.
Under the ceiling fans
summer doesn't take shape
until the red and orange leaves
give us a jump-start
on the flavor of lemonade.