Litkicks Message Board Archive

the porch of long desperate hours

Posted to Action Poetry




the way the sunlight fills the clouds
in the downshift of a day, fading,
your front porch faces the road
with its wooden swing, hanging
spider plants, collie sleeping hard
by the screen. you stand angled
against a round support post,
fords whizz past, dodge pick-ups,
an occasional horn honk from inside
a dust & exhaust cloud kicked up,
as if from the hooves of stampeding
stallions. your heart stumbles every
time it isn't the car you're looking for.
a voice from inside the house screams
for you to come now, no neighbors
on either side of the farmhouse to
hear the raging voice, see you waiting
on a porch of long desperate hours,
face as stoney as a mt. rushmore girl,
seven o'clock dreams the only thing
that stand between you & the rest
of the world, your name suspended
in the guts of an evaporating air

--markk