postural pastoral

this pressure feels purplish

and all i did was stand

from sitting after sleeping

like a bag of sand

on your nubby couch. i spy

swimmers from your bay

window. across busy

lanes of traffic i make

eye contact with life-

guards as you breathe

into my body, save

me from behind. we could

take this outside and i’d grab

handfuls of leaves and needles

from those thick, private

bushes. only rabbits

and squirrels hear us

in effortless euphoria: the hum

and hump fast or soft

as cottontail. even the neighbors

in swimsuit, trunk, and towel

are unaware of our sounds

as automobiles pant so fast

with quickening pulse

down your frantic road.


K Weber lives and writes in Ohio. Her 4 online books of poetry are in e-book and audiobook formats on her website along with her writing credits.

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