Wrung Out

Written by: Joyce Johnson

Limp as an ignored marionette,
the sun has melted all my bones.
I've never known such heat before,
I've always lived in temperate zones.
I'm thirsty but I cannot move
to get myself a cooling drink.
My sizzled brain can't calculate
the distance to the kitchen sink.
I need someone to prop me up,
someone adept at pulling strings,
for by myself I cannot move
no matter what the next hour brings.

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