After the last few days of a heat wave these words from a friend, posted on FaceBook, are as welcome as the change stirring in the air...
Heat
The pale grey evening
blows the heat out
over the green hills--
up over the swaying trees, over the brick chimneys,
over the asphalt roofs
and away from us.
those days of heat, five days of streets like ovens;
we, the bread.
Its all we talked about:
no terror plot uncovered that week, no market crash.
It was hated, but
I enjoyed it:
Knowing it would pass like a labor
producing something we couldn’t wait for:
red fruit in the garden,
the squash unfolding;
the cool breeze
the dog’s calm silence
the perfect night.
- Kelli Kirshstein
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