In Season
The shimmer of a sun-scorched mackerel sky
reflects in heat-haze off a sweating road;
bakes plate glass windows: the shop an oven
cooking beach-read books, tangled strappy tops,
“Ray-Bans”, hot pants; smell of sweat and suntan oil;
ice cream dribbling from a toddler’s sticky
grip to mingle stains remaining
from last summer’s monsoon flooding and juices
from a cracked lava lamp or, perhaps,
that stray bitch that birthed concealed
beneath our bulging rails of disregarded shorts.
Polystyrene packaging cracks and crumbles;
sticks to perspiration as we extract
snow globes, nativities and Christmas cards.
*Myfanwy Fox works in a charity shop. In her spare time she writes poetry and dreams of revolution. Her blog is at http://myfanwyfox.wordpress.com/
