Mismatched feet, he finds the beat
and heat, wipes sweat from slick skin
while she step-pivot-turn learns
with scrambler speed.
Rain used to mean a damp porch swing,
the ting-ting-ting of rain on a leaf-cloaked roof.
Wet blades smuggling stems.
Not slick city sidewalks, heel stamps,
the got-to-get-out-of-it rush of leather boots.
Let the few flowers drink their fill.
Kelly Ann Jacobson is currently pursuing her MA in Fiction at Johns Hopkins University in Washington, DC, and she is the Poetry Editor for Outside In Literary & Travel Magazine. Kelly has had poems published in Wooden Teeth magazine and Outside In Literary & Travel Magazine, a short story published in The Exhibitionist Magazine, and a four part blog on life2pointoh.com. Her work can be found at www.kellyannjacobson.com.
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