Hot, Sweet, Sweltering, July ~ Pastoral Poetry Poem by Christine A Kysely

Hot, sweet, sweltering July
When all you can hear are the distant hums
Of inside fans and outside flies
Fans rattling inside, flies amongst the grasses.
Time seems to stand so very still.

Just the act of breathing
Leaves some beads of sweat
Some tiny drops of condensation
Along the hollows of your breasts
And the hollows of your mind.

There is no place to escape to
This heat hangs like a canopy
Impenetrable to any wind
Like the heaviest of parlor drapes
Cool winds are captive, within a coffin held.

Even the whitest of whites
Can do nothing against this heat
And even the lightest of T-shirts
Leaves one desiring to have much less
To wear nothing at all would be
One's preferred and chosen dress.

The low hum of the box fans
And the ceiling fans in the sky
A reminder that there is some belief
That they might move a bit of air
To gain some temporary relief.

Strategically placed for battle
Against this stagnant heat
Their whirling blades end up doing nothing
But acting as hopeful placebos
Against this hot, sweet, sweltering July.



(January 27,2011 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2011 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved