It’s a burning under my skin,
gnawing at my brain to scratch
away the heat, to run to the faucet
and bathe my face up to the neck.
A curse for ignoring the tears
of the shrubs I cut back
so I never go near them again.
Tag: heat
Afternoon in an empty park
The sun rests on my eyelids as I lie back,
the woven rope of the round swing-seat supporting my neck and spine
as I sway to and fro,
legs kicking out for momentum.
A cradle I’m rocking myself,
an afternoon whose warm hands soothe me without effort
and the breeze whispering its encouragements in my ears.
So this is what it means to relax.
Heat Haze
In the heat of summer,
when our throats
are thirsty, eyes unfocused,
sweat clinging to every part,
we hear the hum, loud as an engine
by our ear. It is the fly,
humble, persistent and even
happy in a group.
We often think of flies as dirty
deeply unclean
and unnecessary things,
disregarding
their role in decomposition.
From decomposition
comes nourishment
for the ground, the spark of growth
and life.
Perhaps that is why the fly
makes such a to-do
about its buzz.
Treeshallow Musings 