Potato Warfare and Summertime

June bugs leg lynched to neon orange thread...
Tap dancing sideways on sun baked cobblestone pavement just after sunset's grand finale.
She remembered him
Like blackberry cobbler
And hand churned ice cream made with rock salt and rhythm.
Deep sighs in collard green lacquer and sunbathing watermelon seeds under grandma's awning.
27 lightening bugs in a mason jar and two snaggle toothed smiles.
Breathing in bliss on yawns inhale
Half past noon on what would be a school day.

When the first cold rain fell that fall
It slapped her in the face like
Cement seeking revenge
For tickling toes over St. Augustine grass
And running full throttle through water sprinklers
In a camisole and Hanes panties
Until bubble bath time and bedtime stories
She remembers him...
Like pinheads and fits of rage
Bullets traveling through brows at light speed
As if to say
"Good mourning"
As they’re on their way to Starbucks for lattes and açaí berry smoothies...
Memories of executions and bible studies at 7 on Wednesdays...
Homemade bombs and burial sites...
He dwells in her...
Somewhere between heaven and a nightmare
Depending on when you ask...
He writes poems about a love that is foreign
And her memories are mixed
Like Monday mornings and spooning on loveseats.
They existed like peace in a time of war.
Until treaties of fidelity were broken like porcelain over a canyon...
And home turned into a barrack of broken promises and potatoes cooked 1000 different ways, none pleasing.
He brought satiety in times of war and starvation
Full at days end, but not quenched.