Reprieve

High summer after the lilacs and it feels 
Like the days never end. The morning
Glory seedlings have just begun to nose 
Their way onto the poles, furred vines 
Sentient as snails. The dog luxuriates
Sideways in a rectangle of sun, only 
Moving to nip the air when a bumblebee
Trundles by, furbished in gold. 

Flightless chicks open their throats,
All hope. The sedum is only green 
And green. The apples, too, and hard 
As marbles. Everything is only about
To happen and you are here turning
Cartwheels in the grass as I turn the pages
Of a book I don’t intend to finish. 

Come sit with me and I will be your shade 
Tree as we rock on the glider through 
The long afternoon, adrift on the river
Of the cicadas’ stretching, spectral tune.

Maggie Dietz is author of the poetry collections Perennial Fall (Chicago, 2006) and That Kind of Happy (Chicago, 2016). Read more.

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