PLANTING IN THE RAIN


A sudden rain. My husband Stan
hunts down just the right place for
an elephant ear, a plant
like parking a van
in a green shoebox. I’m cutting down
old cassia canes. Maybe


as summer grows old, she’ll sit
on our porch in a plastic chair—
fall


asleep in mid-sentence. Stan
and I will tiptoe back in the house,
listen to The Supremes
Sing Holland-Dozier-Holland
to drown out menacing steps
of autumn coming closer.

"Untitled" - Jim Zola

Kenneth Pobo is not a rockin’ kind of guy, in general. He might be a shockin’ kind of guy if you shock easily. The ghost of Ingmar Bergman sometimes whispers poems to him. He doesn’t want them written down so he writes his own. & gardens. & reads Thomas Hardy.

Jim Zola is a poet & photographer living in North Carolina.

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