• heat wave

    by  • July 2, 2014 • poetry • 1 Comment

    the southern summer
    is not personal:
    the onslaught of heat
    and humidity
    falls on the just and
    unjust the sacred
    and the sweaty
    gets under your skin
    refusing to relent
    in its drive to
    depletion as you
    dart from one cool
    remove to the next

    more afternoons than
    not the swirl and stack
    of clouds fills the sky
    with the promise of
    rain — perhaps relief —
    and then delivers
    the promised storm on
    some and not others
    it’s raining in your
    lane of life’s highway
    your windshield wipers
    pull the water across

    the glass like a rake
    in a sand garden
    then erase and try
    again without sense
    of gain or failure
    the best they can do
    as the flash flood steams
    you like vegetables
    healthy though tasteless
    left limp by the heat
    put in a cool place
    to save for tomorrow

    Peace,
    Milton

    About

    Blogging since December 2005

    http://donteatalone.com

    One Response to heat wave

    1. Suzanne Cate
      July 2, 2014 at 11:03 am

      Wonderful, Milton! Here in the Texas panhandle where I am visiting there is much more humidity than usual. Feels good to me! I just heard it described as “air you can wear”!

    Leave a Reply