Tonight's Poet Corner: California Is Burning

California Is Burning
by Belinda Roddie

The old man with brown satin skin
played the marimba until the cops
shooed him away (at least they shooed
him and didn't shoot him). I had loved
the rhythm and intonations, like I was

back on my home island, the waves
kissing my ankles as tenderly as a
forlorn lover consuming too much salt.
Bloated, tired, I slept now under dead oaks,
smoking skies, and warmer yesterdays.

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