Plymouth Magazine-Summer26-DIGITAL - Flipbook - Page 23
I See the Clover
By Jack Porter, written August 8, 2020
I see the:
White fields of clover flowers,
Yellow tinge of the primrose,
Red serenade of a rose bush,
White feathery heads of Victoria’s lace.
I look up:
I notice a black man sitting on his porch,
Hot shimmer of a summer day,
Sweat drips from his brow,
Air hangs heavy with dew,
So thick it can be cut with a knife,
Sun burns.
Sitting and looking.
Head hangs down.
Shoulders sage from a heavy burden.
Why?
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