Issue Eighteen - Summer 2011

High Summer

By Michael Larrain

For Wilder Kathleen

You move through light
like water through a throat
accomplice to every living curve
as though at any moment
you might encounter god
or at least a distant cousin
once removed by marriage
to whatever you last touched
or smelled or tasted
remembered, dreamt, or lost,
Now the peaches are in their adolescence
and the penny jar is filling up
One day is attached to the next
by a spider on the ceiling
The nights grow deeper
the darkness rich
with an untold wealth of daughters
It’s high summer
and we’re all swimming
very slowly
for our lives

Copyright Larrain 2011

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