|This, and That
||[Jun. 19th, 2011|11:50 pm]
Each summer now seems to me a bit more enervating. No matter how briefly the afternoon sun spills heat, I grow tired of it. When evening brings cooler air I'm glad of that, but not energized. I'm like the pavement of the street, slow to lose the burning memory. The sultry radiance of the ground tells me to nap, even when the sun has been swallowed by the horizon and the dusk's mild breeze rustles the leaves. |
There were other summers when I could beam energy back at the sky. No thought of naps then, when having soaked up a long day's rays I'd be ready to carry on all night. Heat brought energy. Now heat drains energy away. Summer was once all nouns and verbs, and now it's like strings of adverbs and prepositions. I've lost the language of heat. How I'd like to have it back.
( Sunday VerseCollapse )