"All that mankind has done, thought, gained or been: it is lying as in magic preservation in the pages of books."
-Thomas Carlyle

by J.E. Heath

Let's sit on your front porch
on a sultry night,
sip iced tea,
and talk about friends
we haven't seen in a while.

"Is that supposed to be a joke?"
you ask,
giving me
a little smile.

And I smile, too.

A warm breeze
is picked up by
the ceiling fan above us
and directed back down.

And you sip on
your tea again,
push back on the swing,
lift your legs,
ride it back and forth
until it stops,
then do it all again.

After about the fifth time,
you look at me
to see if I'll say anything.

I look at you,
sip my tea,
then push back
on the swing,
and lift my legs.