right hand pointing

   

 

 
  Jeff Fleming

Mid-August, Plantation House, 1954



Outside the open

window,

humidity hangs

heavy in the trees,

dripping occasionally

from leaf to leaf,

a soft pattering sound

like indecisive rain.

 

Mother lies still now,

gone, mouth agape,

soul’s escape. We

close it gently, pulling

the sheet over her head.

 

Despite the heat,

Henry starts to shiver.

 

 

 

 

 




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