A poem by Bonnie Enes
June got off at the last stop
her bags filled with graduations, weddings
pool swimming, hiking, planting
pink peonies popping, morning glories vines
racing up the trellis
thunder bolts stick out of her purse
her dandelion-yellow linen sundress
and straw hat still damp after violent storms.
July, dressed in sleeveless shirt
and capris, boards the train, beach bag-
bunches of daisies, black-eyed susans, herbs
fireworks, baking in the sun days
ocean swimming, reading summer novels
[she wouldn’t be caught dead reading
in the serious months], an island sleep over
[and, no, she will never be the same].
Slow moving August, [almost missed her connection]
barely covered in tank top and cut offs
hair tucked under a baseball cap
naps on the bench seats in the back of the train
greets mornings laaaaater & laaaaater & laaaaater
downs hundreds sweating glasses of ice tea
of lemonade, bowls of fresh vegetables
attends out door con certs
her days and nights swollllllllllen, dripppppppping
exhausted by pulling on a bathing suit
of putting paddle to water
the sun overwhelms and
Ohhhhhhh the zucchini the zucchini the zucchini.
Bonnie Enes of Bloomfield is a poet whose work has appeared in several anthologies and magazines.
KOLOT is a feature of the Jewish Ledger in which readers are invited to submit original work on a topic of their choosing. Inquiries and/or submissions should be sent to email@example.com.