My Cart 
Login 

Previous

Oblivious
by
S. Thomas Summers


Next
 

The spilt merlot weaving
across the kitchen counter
reminds me of Moses,

his staff stirring the Nile
into a bloody sauce.
Or, if I circle my finger

in the wine’s dark hue,
it becomes a hurricane
gathering shards of salt

like clouds or a galaxy
swirling its arms across
this forgotten space beneath

the microwave, but it’s only
a trickle of merlot that will bruise
a kitchen sponge. The glass

lying on the counter,
a cut flower, needs to be refilled.
We’ll drink together in the dim

light that hides you
from the mess I’ve made.

 

© by S. Thomas Summers
Used with permission.


 

Scott Thomas Summers is a professor/teacher of literature, writing, and philosophy at Wayne Hills High School and Passaic County Community College, both in Northern New Jersey. Much of Scott's poetry finds its foundation in the hills and forests that surround his home. Via his poetry, he hopes to capture what is easy to see, but often difficult to notice. Scott's work has been published in a variety of journals and he is the author of three books. Read an interview with him here.



Post New Comment:
There are no comments for this poem yet.


Contents of this web site and all original text and images therein are copyright © by Your Daily Poem. All rights reserved.
As an Amazon Associate I earn from qualifying purchases. Purchasing books through any poet's Amazon links helps to support Your Daily Poem.
The material on this site may not be copied, reproduced, downloaded, distributed, transmitted, stored, altered, adapted,
or otherwise used in any way without the express written permission of the owner.