Summer Comes In Through the Window – by Abigail Cargo

Little bits of sunshine hang in corners:
happy shadowy streaks
from trees and palm fronds.

I want to take sparkles from those stone edges,
highlights lining soft round leaves,
lazy mumbles from wind stuck
in clouds,
and bake them in the South Carolina heat
until I get a thought,
singular and strong,
like hard candy that the back of my mouth
swoops down on, leaving a sweet taste
to linger, to ponder.

I want an idea
to smack the back of my head,
waking rigid cells:
golden words trickling down through the skull.

Throw me a stick to worry over,
to fetch back again and again,
until the cracks in my mouth
crumble like broken pottery
as I choke on tastelessness
and spit sedentary syllables at the sky.

Abigail Cargo’s poems have been published in POEM, RATTLE’S Young Poet’s Anthology, Ol’ Chanty (UK), and Stone Soup Magazine. She is a junior in college studying Sociology and Theatre on top of Lookout Mountain, GA, but she calls the much flatter midlands of South Carolina home. Her work develops from a sense of place and personhood that develops into story.