after 4 endless months of the gray undertow
Jennifer Shikes Haines
I sense sun
on my back
reassuring heat.
Snap of hot dog skin
as I bite, grilled edge
giving in to soft sweet
of the bun. To the soft sweet
of Connor laughing—
Dave’s puns.
50’s sitcom contentment
of other families on this deck.
Who knew that ketchup
is the color of happiness?
The day becomes polaroid
technicolor. I can stay in shade
or sun. It is now a choice.
My fries–– crisp outside, hot
inside ––burn my tongue.
Yes, I can feel my tongue.
Jennifer Shikes Haines
Jennifer Shikes Haines (she/her) is a disabled poet and retired educator based in Southeast Michigan. She enjoys exploring questions of what does, and doesn’t, connect our world. She has poems published or forthcoming in Epiphany, Corporeal, The Patterson Literary Review, Tension Literary, JAKE and HNDL Mag: Highlighted Neurodivergent & Disabled Life, among others, and has been nominated for Best of the Net. She can be found on IG @jenshaines77.