An end to Barrenness 

She waits patiently 

(The numbness lends itself
Well to that front)
As suburbia finds its pleasant awakening
The childless in the neighborhood 
Have no rhythms
Summer is just the same as winter
Cicadas merely a momentary occurrence 
Seasons are differentiated by complaints
The heat, the humidity, the leaves, the shoveling
It’s all we fill the center tables with
At the local diner
And so
She waits
To be given 
That rhythmic undulation of expectation
That fullness in her hips that reminds her
That the solstice is always on the horizon 
And the intoxicating summer nights await 
Sweet on the tongue 
Something to hope for
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