Summer by Anna Donovan

Summer comes in sticky
blasts of sax,
uneasy chord progressions
negotiations of stride
in a loose limbed shadow dance
of outstretched arms
on railroad tracks.

Sweat on a rooftop
cold drink in hand,
lights below
in pickle jars,
fading dance of fireflies.

Curl up within myself,
behind my eyes
listening to crickets sing
something of the fragile
on a frame of sunrise
with colors
no one else has seen.

And I conjure up a stillness
on which to stand
amongst shaded Monet sentinels
gurgling youth.

At the melting point
of asphalt.

3 Responses to “Summer by Anna Donovan”

  1. Anna Donovan is an educator and psychologist currently residing in Texas. In the tradition of “following the brush” she cultivates awareness to the spark of inner responses and impressions from her surroundings and follows their flow with words.

  2. Linda Lerner Says:

    Very nice

  3. Travis Blair Says:

    Anna’s poetry, like this poem, always dances with rhythm and is melodious in poetic sound. one of the best poets I have read.

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