“Summer” 3rd Sunday Write for June, July

The prompts actually came Sunday, July 16 — about as early in a month that a third Sunday can be — but also not that far from mid-way from a lateish May (see June 3, et al.) and an August that, on time, still wouldn’t come till the 20th. But then add to that I’m five days late too.

So — on to the chase — herewith my take on the Bloomington Writers Guild’s Facebook page Summer Sunday Write challenge (allinonebreath now):

“Summer” prompt #4 (plus a trace of #2)

BIRDBATH

“A crow flaps by the window, and there is a whiff of of tulips and narcissus in the air.” The last line of Amy Lowell’s “Bath,” but not one she took herself. After all she survived to write the poem.

A crow.

A bath.

A hot summer’s day.

A scent of flowers, peaceful and pleasant, but. . .

A crow!

And hot, sweltering sun permeates the air. Crows don’t sweat like we humans, thus feeling heat much more. And baths contain water.

Cool, soothing water.

A crow. . .

A flap of wings, frenzied — the window is open. A pound and a half of feathers and muscle. This is a large crow! Of beak and claws, sharp — talons we might call them. Piercing through narcissus, tulip scents, suddenly a smell of blood! Screams echoed off tile walls!

Crows, too, are meat-eaters — this one is anyway.

And the bath, cooling. . . .

Until, finally, cawing, a “caw” sounding like a burp, our crow friend — heavily — takes again to the air.

The bath, excepting a few bubbles, now still; the water a flowery pink. The sky still blue and white, save for one black speck.

A crow freshly-washed, and full.