Mellifluous Nights of Summer’s Past

During the day, the street lights hung down like somniferous ovaries
Curled up awaiting the night to unfurl their luminescent vespertines

And on those sweet nights, the lights were the sun to me
We walked beneath them like ghosts
On the crooked roads
Of the city

Wires lined the utility poles like a sick growing vine
They were bent at the root
Ready to shoot
Seed at my nocturnal sunshine

A spar across made a clipper mast painted brown in the shadow cast by the southern yellow pine

And in its brilliant outline I saw the savior’s summer silhouette drawn crucified and divine

 

Andrew Borne is 2 Cups Poet 1 teaspoon Musician 1/4 teaspoon Salt 1/2 cup Absurdity 3/4 cup Chef 1 egg, beaten 2 1/3 cups Family Man. Mixed together and served raw. His column appears weekly in Oddball Magazine.