ArtsAutosBooksBusinessEducationEntertainmentFamilyFashionFoodGamesGenderHealthHolidaysHomeHubPagesPersonal FinancePetsPoliticsReligionSportsTechnologyTravel
  • »
  • Books, Literature, and Writing»
  • Poems & Poetry

an almost but not quite prose poem

Updated on June 25, 2017

the summer was the very last he could take of the monsoon winds reminiscent of the arizona desert the radio-television from the neighbors play mariachi-sitcom- music- with-laughter society garlic rosemary brick paths in a mandala and the monsoon winds with lightning blow for several drug store calendars length which is maybe ten years or more

never been away for anyplace other than the desert but this place and the corner cantina the noise of billiard balls colliding near tables with the plea of dice and coins could I have another ceveza the voice says and she says the tequila with the lemon and salt the aroma of the rosemary and scented grasses in the air

the job had faded like a delicious dream in the morning that slips behind the curtain of light before the sun awakens the stars sleep and the dandelion grasses releasethe scented rosemary and lavender grasses that slept outside the brick pathway near the window for the many calendars maybe fifteen years and the bookshelves have emptied themselves into the clothes bin which was hung out to dry in the salvation army parking lot and the pictures have slipped off the fireplace wall into the neighbors house with the mariachi television radio and the carpets have wrapped themselves up and walked down the brick pathways with the scented grasses into the trucks carrying the yard sale ukelele hibachi and the house with the grasses will soon disappear with the county employee parking lot stickers like the chinese post sticker saucer plates in the corner restaurant with the grasses and brick pathways and dime store calanders into the salvation army parking lot moving vans

and the summer grasses will bloom to empty walls and the pathways covered with the dead flowers of scented grasses and the dusty wood hallways of uncarpeted houses will echo like the billiard balls and dice coins touching the flowers of grasses that no longer bloom and the arizona desert with the lightning monsoons

© 2017 Finn Liam Cooper


    0 of 8192 characters used
    Post Comment

    • profile image

      Tamara Moore 9 months ago

      Very descriptive and quite fascinating!

    • Jodah profile image

      John Hansen 10 months ago from Queensland Australia


    • Debangee Mandal profile image

      DEBANGEE MANDAL 10 months ago from India

      Beautifully expressed.. I really enjoyed reading it.