Warm and cozy in
the barbeque pit
smoky morning air
and charcoal streaks
across
our cheekbones –
blackened hickory slivers
fill the gaps
between our teeth.
on day-old meat bones
we lie low in
this depression.
There’s a storm coming
been coming for
a long time.
Above us
greasy brown clouds
slide across a
tin-pan sky.
(Originally published in Subliminal Interiors)
