Late Tuesday Afternoon
By: Marianne Szlyk | Posted on: March 2018
A swimmer, the sun plunges into
clouds the color of mud,
splashing into their surf.
The sky is infused with salt,
brackish water, the smell
of reeds growing into the water,
white, ear-shaped flowers
slipped in among lush shoots.
The sun plummets through all this
swirling scent, damp green,
on its way to touch bottom.
Marianne Szlyk is a professor of English and Reading at Montgomery College. She also edits The Song Is... a blog-zine for poetry and prose inspired by music (especially jazz). Her full-length book, On the Other Side of the Window, is now available on Amazon. Her poems have appeared in of/with, bird's thumb, Loch Raven Review, Cactifur, Mad Swirl, Setu, Solidago, Red Bird Chapbook's Weekly Read, Mermaid Mirror, and Resurrection of a Sunflower, an anthology of work responding to Vincent Van Gogh's art. She invites you to stop by her blog-zine and perhaps even submit some poems: http://thesongis.blogspot.com