She smacks another mosquito on her leg.
The little boy splashes in his inflatable pool.
smack, splash

They are out in force tonight.

The men wear golf shirts and chinos.
The ladies are in dresses.
The younger girls in long denim skirts and tennis shoes.
Pocketbooks slung over shoulders, tracts clutched tightly in hands

Splash splash smack

She thinks how she’s never watched this event before.
She’s opened the door and talked with them.
But they don’t see her and her son in the backyard
so she’s free to just watch
to stare even.

smack smack splash smack

They are polished.
Their introductions are well-spoken but not fake.
Their smiles prove their passion.
Most people aren’t home on a summer evening like this one.
They’re attending cookouts, or on the golf course or the swim club

splash smack splash

What is truth?
Is it something we can agree on?
What might we have in common on this July night?
splash smack splash splash


~ by hannahcsykes on July 21, 2008.

One Response to “”

  1. Okay, I’ll give it a go. “What is truth?” She knows it! Would those she sees agree with her? Depends. Wonder whats written in those tracts. Last question? Definitely humidity and mosquito bites.

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