Fall 2021 Inklings

Summer’s end is a m e d l e y :
Plum juice running down your chin
Watermelon rinds in a compost bin
Pearly red smile beneath green skin
Mosquito-bite-red skies
And swollen orb drifting
Dozily to settle on the humid horizon
Title:
Why The Air Shimmers
Summer is flies on a deer carcass
On the side of the road
Headlights growing fainter
f a i n t e r
Blood still warm
(but starting to clot).
Fur is stiff.
Its eyes are dark.
f a i n t e r . . .
[And its eyes?]
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