Four Poems
Rachel Springer

Since summer peaks at the beginning

There's a certain budget to start with. The sun bakes in the entire heartache, or at least half of it.


When a smile infiltrates the yard

Small things struggle to look & smell the daintiest.


Orange, then flashing, then red & flashing

Your hand on my leg, you ask me why I watch your hand.


Because actions result in moods

I push a strawberry onto your white shirt. Its range is a circle.

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