local_library No Summer

by Ginna Richardson Luck

Published in Issue No. 275 ~ April, 2020

So, it is summer, maybe. I don’t know.

The sunlight clumps.

Hours circle big as bombs.

I’m so stuffed up

with demons today

I sting for the green rot

in rain, the moss along bright

dead, dotted stumps

a different soft green

that whines

to be touched.

A hummingbird

pauses above me, sucks

glass. The past is so fat.

Who have I been

outside of holding my breath? Every day

I must live in a terrified map of pins.

account_box More About

Ginna Luck’s poems have appeared in Radar Poetry, Gone Lawn, Hermeneutic Chaos Journal, Rust + Moth, Leveler Poetry, Up The Staircase Quarterly, and others. She has been nominated for two Pushcart Prizes. She received her MFA from Goddard College. Her first full-length collection, Everything Has Been Asking for Mercy, was published by Finishing Line Press.