Tag Archives: Summer

Late Summer, Block Island

by Anne Whitehouse

The air gray, still, and parched.
The rain, when it comes, is a sprinkle
dripping silently on the ground.
The mourning dove’s call is backdrop Continue reading

Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry

A Summer Dream

by Ajay Sawant

Sparrows with brackish blacks
On a hot, hot afternoon hop
stringently in sun pecking grains,
The Lu sweeps the grass to brown,
shadowed partly by fiery Gulmohar;
The gala gates squeal slithering
tar roads. Continue reading


Filed under Poetry

A Dream of Earth in Summer

by Jenn Dean

If April and May felt hesitant and pale like an egg, with June comes the hatching of summer. Summer looks like the earth’s Bacchanalian dreaming: bees cluster, drunk on the pendulous and phallic spears of flowers, orgiastic birds couple, beetles crawl and heave, and snakes unroll from the marsh grass like rolls of striped tape. The trees pump themselves so full of water their trunks swell and water shoots up the inner bark’s xylem with enough force that you can hear it with a stethoscope. This is the tipping point, the point of no return: summer can no longer be stuffed back into the bag it came in. Continue reading

Leave a comment

Filed under Nonfiction