“Popsicle,” Harry Calhoun

by MP

We’re both after-work exhausted,
sitting on our deck,
healthy exercise behind us too,
just trying to let all the muscles relax.

Trying to let it all melt away
in the 99-degree heat before
all the flavor slips past our lips

or down our throats. So much
has escaped us, so much
we have swallowed, we come

to each other like hummingbirds
ravenous to the feeder, craving
the sweet popsicle we share,

the sugary scent
we pick up and crave

from each other

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