Argentru--Monet

Sultry South Louisiana air
weighs heavy on old men
peddling shrimp and dreams
from white styrofoam icechests
that ride like Mardi Gras revelers
in the backs of pickup trucks.

Seafood and sanity
both meet untimely ends
in the heat of July
when the afternoon sky
sends hailstorms and heatlightening
with equal contempt for the comfort
of porch sitters and street prophets
who find scarce shelter
under green striped awnings
or ancient oaks
whose limbs bear the weight
of a multitude of years.

Spanish moss drips
like melting metal
in the stillness that portends
the coming of the rain.
Soiree's and sweet sweat
and old black men in rocking chairs
and the languid scent of
magnolia...........

but always, just a breath away,
just beneath the surface
of that humid heat,
lies the fetid smell of
decay...

and ladies press
lace handkerchiefs
to delicate noses,
and wait in scripted southern silence
for the storm
that will clear the air
and wash them free.

phantom...(c) wla 5-9-2000