A Pint on a Hot Afternoon


The sun is white. It’s dry creek weather.
My throat is parched. I’m spitting feathers.
The table sits beyond the trees
The desert trapped inside the breeze.
Here is the glass. Here is the ice.
The cool lagoon of paradise.
A condensation droplet tracks
The southern face. My lips have cracked.
I’ll savour just one moment more,
Then slake it like a tidal bore.


13 responses to “A Pint on a Hot Afternoon

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