Midsummer Poem

by James Rockwell   Jul 26, 2025


I’m in my car.
Outside the heat is
shaking the asphalt
like quicksands.
Inside, the air conditioning
blows with every inch
of its breath trying to mimic
Canadian wind chills.

Outside the window
a rotating sprinkler
sprinkles a watermelon field
giving life with each rotation
to a rainbow so small
it could fit in my pocket
like a paperback

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