squash vines
long and hollow
the last late evenings
deep in the sink
the great veins of chard
summer’s end
curl
of the corn worm
lingering heat
a shower darkens
in the summer bookstore
the smell of new novels
the frayed rope
swings back into the shade
country swimming hole
one firefly
clears the house
summer midnight
crooked bra strap
of a cafe waitress
the heat
the long gap downstream
to the bridge’s shadow
evening coolness
lightning flash
how short
the stubble
summer dawn
coolness
of the egg’s taper
the flatness
of watermelon seeds
August dusk
the long segments
of the Big Dipper’s handle
summer fields
— BURNELL LIPPY
These poems appear in late geese up a dry fork, Red Moon Press, 2003.
This article appears in Aug 27 – Sep 2, 2003.

