Tail end of a ragtag summer,
Horse apple time in Texas
When heat lifts its heavy hand
Briefly from my shoulder, and
The sun sinks like a golden balloon
Behind Longhorn Meadow.
Green globes of luminescent Day-Glo
Big as Texas grapefruit
Lie in the Bermuda grass,
Hefty enough for small boys
To chunk at tree trunks or a passing car
With a satisfying "thunk."

Lumpy, ludicrous fruit
You broadcast the possibility
Of autumn once again,
The possibility of cool nights
Under a down comforter,
The possibility of a giant twist
In the atmosphere, a hurricane
To stir up dregs of my lethargic soul
Worn down by one hundred degree heat--
The great, gigantic, final possibility
Of rain.