Ken Allan Dronsfeld’s most recent poem to appear here was “Sonnet 12, A Velvet Rhapsody” (July 2018).

Dark Side of the Sun
By Ken Allan Dronsfeld

I rest on the porch in mid-afternoon
The sky, a brighter shade of
loneliness or despair.
The sun is directly above, wielding
shards of flaming rays.
Tall glasses of lemonade sit on the
kitchen table;
like mourners at the funeral of a
dear friend.
dusty curtains blow in and out of
open windows;
as the breath of the prairie inhales
and exhales.
The prairie grasses bow in unison
creating a wave-like montage.
Swallows swoop and rise chasing
insects with each gust.
The scent of fresh baked apple pie
wafts through the air.
Granny has put two on the window
sill to cool.
Sometimes, I think it’s hotter out here
than in near the old stove.
A walk to the pond with Grandpa and
brother Joe for a swim.
We find it dried out, cracked dirt and
a small puddle of water is left.
A flock of blackbirds drinks and then
flies away.
Great Grandpa says, “we spend five
months living, and seven slowly dying”.
Granny says, “yes, it’s hell living on
the dark side of the sun.”