| OCR Text |
Show ON AUGUST, WOMEN AND RAIN While I stood here behind the screen, hidden in shadow, they must have stooped below my vision, for down the back road beyond the steps the last dusty swirls from their naked feet are settling and their small voices, like the long slender legs of loons trail through the opening darkness. In the evening's coolness I slide my arm gently down along one breast to rest upon the knob of the door, My stomach no longer touches the screen. It no longer hangs like a sack of wet soft fruit as it once did. Already the folds grow like webbed feet, yellow and snake-ribbed, while outside stretching across a lavender sky, the red belly of the sun |
