She sat alone on the porch swing
in suffocating summer heat.
Her legs were rhythmically fanning.
Hot glances, cool leers, from the street.

She licked the sweat from her cold glass,
an inviting titillation,
her full hips swaying to and fro,
fueled the boy’s imagination.

He watched her surreptitiously,
as cruel discomfort stirred his loins.
She smiled knowingly as she teased,
his innocence she would purloin.

While on his knees he pulled the weeds,
perspiration in profusion.
Admonishing himself a fool,
an ache of complete confusion.

She rose, seductive, in bare feet
In her Summer Dress she sashayed.
He watched until the screen door slammed,
relieved, and wishing she had stayed.

M. Zane McClellan

Copyright 2015
All rights reserved

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