Come Visit Me ~~ anna hood

Come visit me here
on the Island we'll sit
under the overhang
of the back veranda
where citronella candles gutter
in their own melt
in widowed saucers
and pickle jar lids
in red and white soup cans
where overhead burned out stars
implode undetected
by the radar of swooping
brown bats

Come to me when
darkness falls
when spiders are busy
weaving webs of dew
the dog will snore
under the porch swing
the river will reach her arm
into the baywhere fisher boats
tug crusty tethers
you'll swallow salt
swallow the silence
the scent of the flowering
mock orange bush
my grandmother planted
swallow my neighbours'
bar-b-q smoke
they'll invite you over

I don't like Toronto hot
with noise melting black tar
roads thick with cars
windows up ACs blasting
stereos blaring
dead elms
and exhaust fumes
What do you know
city slicker
of freshly mown hay
sweet clover where red hens
strut and cluck
scratch for beetles
of horses racing snorting
pawing red clay roads
and cows chew cuds
chlorophyll green?

Come visit me
on a soft Island night
you can return the book
I loaned you
ten years ago.