Summertime

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Juices from a watermelon trickle down the chin
As I crunch one juicy bite after the other,
I sit on the stoop and while I eat this fruit, and
Decidedly, I took a break from the monotony, my life.
Asking myself where the slippery innocence is, I
Transiently find it then watch it flit
Into the deep unknown, unseen, and unfelt where it was hiding.
From the dark crevices in my brain, that volatile organ, and with much difficulty
I recall days of climbing that decrepit willow tree out front,
Now chopped and pruned and stark but bark and limp branches,
Standing alone, an embarrassment weeping amongst the brittle sun burnt grass.
With this and with my incised hand I swab the liquid from the mouth and
Unthinkingly toss the rind into the bushes.





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