David Gunton

To the Veranda

The beach volleyball tournament
Was lightly attended, and the hours
Grew long. Smoke blew in

From Canada. We watched it hang
Just over the trees and remarked,
Absentmindedly, that the sun was orange.

You told me you would teach me
To play chess, but I couldn’t master
The rules, each of the pieces behaved

Differently, and I hated taking turns.
Finally your mother served iced tea.
I suggested we retire to the veranda

To no one in particular. Now everything
Was orange. A jay screeched. I would
Have to have the mole on my elbow removed.

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David Gunton’s chapbook Notable Moons was published by Quillkeepers Press in 2023. His poems have also appeared in The Washington Square Review, La Petite Zine, and The Long Island Quarterly. He lives in New York, in the Hudson Valley.