How Many Packs a Day Does That Make

by Constance Schultz


traces of fires                          of all the words

here and there                                   unspoken

where dry sage burns                       right now

golden grass                                      beautiful

complete                                               logical


summer                         refuse to say it sleepy

summer                        foreign in the mouth

summer                            wishful thinking


wish on smoke for summer on the beach

candles homemade in shells


blue wax candles of oyster shell and clam

and air from an ocean


smoke of fires in fields          compose a haiku

permeates invasive toxicity                    forget

far and wide                                    what to say


and imagine chickens now                      magic

a beach little house                 tired and dreamy

apple tree and compost pile                      drive

and sunsets to write about                  and drive

places to run   until problems are too tired to be


think and then shiver think again

I love you and them and us and it’s a kiss

Constance Schultz lives in the Pacific Northwest with her daughter. She has writing in the Calamus Journal, Figroot Press, Verdancies, and Stonecoast Review.