Ii
People have formed in clumps
like little Chinese dumplings
under the few trees,
where the grass is thick and damp.
In the center of the park
a group of twenty-somethings
throw a frisbee;
their athletic legs
stutter and flutter and step.
Shirtless and bikinied,
their sweat looks like condensation
on a glass of ice water:
the beads mysteriously leaking from the skin.
That’s the body’s way of telling them
it’s too hot to run.
Copyright © Paul Sylvester | Year Posted 2005
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