you said it was orange like the flavored
fruit marshmallows grandpas share as treats
but that orange gets powdery on your hands
and looks more like a dreamsicle than sun
light saying adieu for the day
no it’s more like the china berries
gutters collect at the end of spring
all along Peques Street the world
gets hazy with pollen snow tree sex
but I was wondering about the dead sea
and if it’s really this same green at sunset
as you say it is because all the pictures
don’t have trees just boys and girls
with grand daddy long leg limbs
and dark about their eyes like coffee
in the pot I forgot to turn off before we left
John Andrews is working on an MFA in Poetry at Texas State University and is the current managing editor for Front Porch Journal. His work has also appeared in Columbia Poetry Review, Stone Highway Review, and Aim For The Head: an Anthology of Zombie Poetry.
Eunoia Review 