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.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
