POEMS

The Rules of Frisbee

Let it be sunny, a Wednesday,
February, two hours after noon
when the frost has gone wet,
steamed off to a mirage of heat-haze.

Sit at a desk, in a row, in a room
(face the window), a room full of
heads down and listen. Hear the
scritching of pens, the shush-

shushing of graphite, watch
the sprint across A4 of ballpoint
and rollerball. Put down your pen,
tilt back your chair, jaunty,

clasp your hands at the back
of your head, elbows akimbo
and daydream, drift with the scene
in the frame of the window,

the open-air ballet of thrower to
catcher, catcher to thrower, leaping
like stars at the skim of the light-
hearted discus. Let it be sunny.

featured on #throwback Thursday, February 2022 by Two Rivers Press