Friday, August 3, 2012

“One-hundred Degrees in the Shade”

Dust chases us down the road   
engulfs the car   
swirling like powdered sugar blown from a birthday cake   
coating our sandaled feet as we step into the furnace   
The dogs retreat to bunk bed and chair   
anticipating evening’s approach—   
a breeze, teasing and seductive   
Buffalo grass, brittle reminders of Spring’s bounty   
squat in death   
Cedars, tipped in brown and rust,   
finger summer’s dragon breath in search of moisture   
The naked sky, adorned only by a relentless sun   
yearns for bird song   
Silence, even, languishes in the oppressive heat   
Live Oaks, gnarled limbs supplicating to the cloudless sky   
plea for rain   
Wash away the sins of the world   

Copyright 2011 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

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