The Farmer's Market

rolled one by one
to the crooked table's edge
sticky blood oranges
hanging on
one breath away
from free fall
a drop shot
their downfall

no one seems to notice
i don't know how much longer
they can hold on
perched there
on such a very

may push them off myself
save them the humiliation
when with
one good squeeze
quicker than a startled gasp
if the lights go out
eyes close
and they get blamed
for the strange
flowing into

Spring Fever Summer Love

only ever lasts about three days
the spring green hue i long to capture
want to crawl inside the new growth
curl up, stay forever

about three days you remind me
the longest I wait
before imagining a problem or
registering some complaint

once young determined buds
a long weekend and we fell
knew all the answers
far from tailored lawns and traffic circles

freed on the cement leaving town
got chills seated in the sun's full rays
hair flying in dandelion wind
blaring down the pike

called you Rexy, to you I was Lou
past the motorcycle bars playing blues
beer specials so cheap you can't imagine
how they make any money at all

to the dune's edge into jellyfish waves
tawny skin splashing
slicing safely in spaces in between
never getting stung, not once

wide salty rimmed eyes
reckless, undressed, burned red
bright lights, were there sirens?
with a wild howl we lept off that train bridge

up early today listening for birds
to call our names
maybe dig up some worms
take out the boat, go fishing

the dew covered garden glows
effervescent lime shoots reaching
through mud and dreams
seeds of teenage madness sprouting

Mary Pembleton
June 29, 2010