Narrated by Steven Krug
The whir of a 20-speed tropical June,
Minnesota air sliced by spokes,
that gentle hiss
those crescendos, coasting down hills
through the hottest asphalt wind,
where the little league
field was recently dragged, the silt
consolidated with lake scent
from across the drive
where homeruns are occasionally
launched, by precocious pre-teens
who’ve learned to square the bat
on a laced ball, now all wet,
a memory never deleted–
like alloys of summer and night,
childhood and benevolence,
the pink sky powders breaths
so calm and untroubled
by electronic acrimony or
unsatisfying comparisons
Just as a private blue heron
feeding on minnows at the buggy shore
BIO: Michel Steven Krug is a Minneapolis poet, fiction writer, former print journalist from the Johns Hopkins Writing Seminars. He’s Managing Editor for Poets Reading the News (PRTN) literary magazine and he litigates.
His poems have appeared in MacQueen’s Quinterly, Portside, New Verse News, JMWW, Cagibi, Silver Blade, Crack the Spine, Dash, Mikrokosmos, North Dakota Quarterly, Eclectica, Writers Resist, Sheepshead, Mizmor Anthology, 2019, PRTN, Ginosko, Door Is A Jar, Raven’s Perch, Main Street Rag and Brooklyn Review and others.