Summer Heat

 

I don’t know why,

But then,

It was July,

With the summer

Heat heavy,

The humidity

Thick and sticky,

Everything too close

And everyone

Moving in slow

Motion, some towards

The ice cap line-up

In what, in

Another season,

Could be called

Underwear,

And there

In front of your eyes

Physical pictures

Beyond description,

White snow skin,

Piercing rings and things

Bikini rash and curly hair,

Naked nipples nudging

Out of flimsy tank tops,

Too many pounds

Trussed in a thong

Like a rising loaf

Of bread dough

Dressed in an

Elastic band,

And yet,

The invisible umbilical

Connecting us all

In this worldly womb,

So calm,

So cool,

So peaceful.

 

Stephen Nesbitt ©

 

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