Melting
June 7, 2011
The distant ball of fire
Radiates heat
Beating down from the heavens.
Our skin becomes slick,
Shiny.
Fatigue sets in.
Drops roll down
The highway of our spinal column.
The air is still,
Thick,
Wet,
As we braise in our own sweat.
The dog’s tongue lolls
Out of his mouth.
The babes, whining and squirming,
Demand popsicles.
The Furnace,
Alone,
Broken,
Waits for its motor to be fixed.
The Air Conditioner,
Impatient yet
Gratified,
Is sorely
MISSED.
4 Comments
leave one →
?/a>
“Drops roll down
The highway of our spinal column.”
Evocative image!
Thanks Willow. Unfortunately, it was the truth! That day it was a record breaking heat: 103. Thank goodness our furnace was fixed by noon so we could sleep that night!
“braised” ! Love it!
That word always makes me hungry though…creepy, huh?