TROUT   [4] 

Briar Wood: [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]
Chlorotera de poias
  Seems to me the party in her company  
must be dumbstruck to be in such brilliant luck.  
Chemical laughter sparkles, stinging easy  
along long green breeze  

across sun stippled flesh tickling fresh cut grass.  
Cool at the municipal pool, in emerald  
scented dress. Cloud cuckoo land of flowered towels.  
She anoints herself  

with suntan oil. Coiled hair. Minoan fresco.  
Burn time takes  fifteen minutes. The picnic crisps.  
Through the lightslide I'm fevery, sleepish, seeking  
shade. Koroirangi.  

My heart takes a dive, then treble back flips,  
skips a quaver,  plunging in at the deep end.  
Treading water. Singing in the wings. Maybe  
this shivery flow  

is sunstroke, on reflection, since a poor 

   © 1998