Shelly Cato
Shelly Cato’s writing has appeared or is forthcoming in Rattle, Southeast Review, Poet Lore, Washington Square Review, Harpur Palate, New Ohio Review, and TriQuarterly. She lived in the Mississippi Delta for 25 years and now writes near the Warrior River in Walker County, Alabama. She is passionate about genre bending and experimenting with form, long poems and refrains, and blurring lines between truth and imagination. She spends free time paddleboarding the river— identifying birds and insects and trees and invasive species with her Seek app.
Cleome
It is the end of warmth
and we must
remember
cloudlines —
tarnished, ombre,
mustard seed, barn swallow
watermelon knife. Sweetgum
balls—crackling underfoot.
On a good day,
honey. On the best day, air
honeysuckle heavy, wild plum.
On a day of heat
lightning, a drop of amber
lingers in the flute
of summer’s last cleome.
A hummingbird moth
tongues it, shudders
to hovered stillness,
flowers on.
A kiss can do
that to the body.
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