GARDEN OF THE LIVING
How cool is this the mist soft as nipples against a tongue and bulbous thick-as-fist peaches just above the reach of deer whose four feet could easily outjump a high jumper and the last of raspberries smooth as Anne’s lips against my lips. The moons of August are drawing out tides for seashells to show off their curves among squishy sand for feet to sink in deep nuzzle the necks of geoducks. Heavy pears are bending branches like slingshots and the old dog wheezing on the porch dreams of balls to chase while I wad up the newspaper someone killing someone and suing impeaching improper someone not believing in hydrangea blue.
John Davis is a polio survivor and the author of Gigs and The Reservist. His work has appeared recently in DMQ Review, Iron Horse Literary Review and Terrain.org. He lives on an island in the Salish Sea, USA.