Southern Summers

by Tracy Sopko

As summer painted
the night with thunder,
Time collapsed down
on the grass, his legs
akimbo, his white hair
mussed about his head
like the stuffing pulled
from a too-loved teddy bear.
Soft flashes of fairy light
danced in and out
of the subtly bruised clouds.
Death grew roots
out of his walking shoes,
buried his toes into the dirt,
dropped his hood
and made the decision to
take the night off.
The stillness of the Southern
night was complete.

Tracy Sopko was born and raised in small Florida town, hovering, like the state itself, on the fringes of Southern culture. She currently lives in Jacksonville and attends the University of North Florida.