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Description
it's too hot to do anything
so we harvest cucumbers,
the flowers like burning suns
above and below.
the wind postpones the scorching
until we're home.

i spot another one,
and another; rough globules
of water and seeds lie lazily
in the shade of parasols
of their own making,

as we continue our
dragging dialogue about
separation, divorce;
disappointment, relief.
it's your day to speak,

and it becomes clearer than ever
that you blame the bird
for eating, the heart
for beating, but i don't
blame you and me

for building a castle
in the sand, too tall
to stand.

Description
it's too hot to do anything
so we harvest cucumbers,
the flowers like burning suns
above and below.
the wind postpones the scorching
until we're home.

i spot another one,
and another; rough globules
of water and seeds lie lazily
in the shade of parasols
of their own making,

as we continue our
dragging dialogue about
separation, divorce;
disappointment, relief.
it's your day to speak,

and it becomes clearer than ever
that you blame the bird
for eating, the heart
for beating, but i don't
blame you and me

for building a castle
in the sand, too tall
to stand.