a tapestry poem
windows down, 75 mph,
sweat pours down my face and neck,
and the asphalt shudders in the distance:
pavement glistens like a portal
a trick of the light, the sky reflected back,
the sun brought down to earth,
if I drive fast enough will I reach it?
be transported to where sand glimmers with
thousands of portals to palm trees, coconut drinks, and
pools of shimmering blue water, bright and clear and sweet?
a portal to where heat is worth it--
the haze dissipates but the sticky heat stays,
like the way you still feel the touch
of your lover’s lips long after they’ve gone.
even with slices of cool watermelon, and shade under big emerald leaves,
the heat will stay with you, long after the haze,
like the sky always touches the horizon.
I drove so fast, I missed my exit.
sweat pours down my face and neck,
and the asphalt shudders in the distance:
pavement glistens like a portal
a trick of the light, the sky reflected back,
the sun brought down to earth,
if I drive fast enough will I reach it?
be transported to where sand glimmers with
thousands of portals to palm trees, coconut drinks, and
pools of shimmering blue water, bright and clear and sweet?
a portal to where heat is worth it--
the haze dissipates but the sticky heat stays,
like the way you still feel the touch
of your lover’s lips long after they’ve gone.
even with slices of cool watermelon, and shade under big emerald leaves,
the heat will stay with you, long after the haze,
like the sky always touches the horizon.
I drove so fast, I missed my exit.
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Bec Turner is a new poet from Memphis, Tennessee. Bec loves dogs, and has a lot of weird dreams. This will be her first published piece.
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Meagan Patrick lives and writes in Memphis, TN, where she works with her service-dog-in-training and closest confidante, Jyn. Her work can be found in Mineral Lit Mag, littledeathlit, and perhappened mag.
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