Lavender Hills (Listen)
by Joseph Immel
The white heat silences the hills
waiting for a visitor with natural stillness.
Weeds and wildflowers radiate
among ruins of a hilltop path where
a scrub tangle of bush and vines
soak up an old church.
Cicadas humm, cracked stones
are dizzy in the sun.
A black spider crawls noiselessly
in the brown scorched grass.
Possessed by breaths of hot light,
I open my hand and discover the grapes I've crushed
picked from a nearby bush.
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