For Ed in 1979

In my imagination I call to tell you
the apples have reddened on the tree in
the grocery parking lot

And you answer from the pitch black of the Pinto
back seat annointed with Mennen and Old Spice
where we folded around each other in sublime discomfort.

In my imagination I call, just to hear you say
“What do you want?” and to hear myself answer,
“Summer.”

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