by Susan Cameron
AFTERNOON IN PARADISE
I've been lying
under the Southern California sky,
which is flatter than Kansas
and bleached as white as desert bones.
I shut my eyes against the glare.
No breeze disturbs the overheated stillness--
earthquake weather,
though people deny there is such a thing.
I lift the gin-and-tonic to my lips
and swallow hard.
I float alone in the silent pool.
There's a faint dry rattle overhead --
a spiky clatter and scratch.
My eyes are closed, but I can tell
we have rats
in the palm trees
again.
Susan Cameron, copyright 1999
