by Grace Walter
Hello Dr. Michael Chen
I’ve come to talk with you again
Because your car alarm went beeping
Late last night while I was sleeping
And the vision of my fist through your windshield pane
Still remains
Within the sounds of summer
From restless dreams I wake alone
To early morning mowers drone
Beneath my window is a street lamp
That spits and sputters when it’s warm and damp
When my arms fell prey to the wrath of an insect’s bite
I squashed its plight
And touched the sounds of summer
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand ice cream trucks or more
And they all played the same jingle
And the driver’s all bilingual
And the cries of the children as they ran barefoot in the street
For a frozen treat
Disturbing sounds of summer
“Fools,” said I, “You do not know”
Gnats and skeeters grow and glow
See them swarming in the moonlight
Hear them buzzing round your room light
But my words, like silent raindrops fell
What the hell
And echoed
In the wells of summer
And the people bowed and prayed
To the solar god they made
Choosing to ignore the warning
Of harmful rays while blisters forming
And a sign said the words of the profits are hidden in the throats of frogs
And barking dogs
And whispered in the sounds of summer.
Grace Walter is a native of north Jersey now residing in Morrisville, PA. She is a medical biller by day and the mother of a college-aged daughter full-time.
