the breeze
punctuates
the thanks we whisper
to the sun
water drips
from my lips
to my breasts
in summer’s
heat
you have to kneel
at the shore
to hear the melody
of the water
lapping
no need for a fire
while the sun’s light
dances upon
the pond
kelly salasin
South Pond
September 21, 2009
Kelly Salasin 
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