•
relentless din
of crawling
prowling
night
pours steaming
through my window
midnight intrudes
damp and searing
insistent
scalded air
too hot and thick to breathe
a heat to suffocate
coarse whirr drones overhead
promising relief
in vain
sweltered darkness
lays heavy upon me
unbearable
I toss in labored half-sleep
gasping for cool relief
haltingly
I deep inhale to fill my lunges
only to bake them
in cruel sustaining breath
this oven to endure
salted droplets trace my spine
baste my neck
pool in the hollow of my fevered chest
bloom and seep
from beneath the smother
of matted soak atop my head
to weep their way ‘cross smoldered brow
into my eyes
and sting
no respite
in this nocturne furnace
night clings
and stifles
even dreams are scorched
simmering in July
• • •
rob kistner © 2010
Rob it must be really hot there!
Well done!
Pamela
I empathize, Rob. It feels the same way here. the last two lines of the poem say it all!
http://troublebeingstrong.blogspot.com/2010/07/premonition.html
I know the feeling well – so hot you could die of thirst, so humid you could drown on a single breath of air.
I am so used to hot summers, I barely think about it – and the vividness of your words says it all (and more!)
we had three lovely days last week. I’m hanging on to that while the grass crisps.
that ending does it.