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Discomfort Notwithstanding

hanging in the air humidity’s heaviness . . . the river’s slow crawl On the Mississippi lies the beautiful little city where I once lived. How many times I trudged up inclined streets; or leaning forward, red-faced and panting, pressed up slopes with all my might, feet on pedals of my purple Sting-ray bike, urging myself not to dismount prior to reaching glorious level ground! The damp beneath my clothing in those days was a given. Simply stopped to rest. . . sipping pop underneath a tree, I would often feel rivulets of sweat that trickled down beneath my underarms, a surfeit which caused circle stains to appear beneath the arms of short-sleeved shirts or on Sundays, beneath the flowered dresses that I wore to church. However, despite the heat’s discomfort, it was summer, after all! counting down the days until the school bell’s last ring - a fling with summer Released from stifling classrooms for vacation, I eagerly embraced the sun. . .and how I played! Kickball with the neighbors, visits to the city pool with my sisters and friends, bike rides to parks or into town, where I spent my allowance on records and treats, and hours racing eagerly through the pages of Nancy Drew books in front of a cooling fan - all these things consumed me. It was in the month of August, and more than a decade of muggy summers later that I found myself transplanted in a desert. As if thrust into a giant pre-set oven with a noose about my neck, I learned firsthand the meaning of “slow roast.” Here, in the new and different place where I've now lived most of my adult life, the heat can leave one with a burn like acid watered down, a deep sensation lingering in skin long after sun has left the sky. Perspiration may just evaporate before it has a chance to wend its way along the body’s contours. Discomfort notwithstanding, there’s no pain. Acclimated to these summers now, I find that it is easier for me to breathe in August heat than it was the first time I’d ever encountered it. Released from stifling work, I go outside into the oven, pen in suntanned hand! sunshine reflections so many summers have passed writing till twilight

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

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Date: 11/29/2015 1:26:00 PM
Oooowww, I get sweaty just thinking about it. I am a northerner, and, I gather, you are one too. Love, daver
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Date: 11/22/2015 7:11:00 AM
Hard to write you say, and then you pen a beauty like this. Haibun is the way of the new millennia; I'm sure! Great write. Now Sonnets, they're a hard write. Oooh yeah they is sure tricky.
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Date: 11/22/2015 6:55:00 AM
I enjoyed this very much. Good, entertaining writing ... CayCay
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Date: 11/21/2015 4:16:00 PM
Memories of you in the house on the bed reading those books. I don't think I thought of the stifling heat in Utah as stifling, I thought it was pleasant at least compared to humid Houston, Texas. That's stifling.
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Date: 11/20/2015 4:54:00 PM
You did well my friend! Writing a haibun take time to write and to read. Gotta run...getting that shot in the eye again so may not be able to see for a day or so.
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Date: 11/20/2015 9:18:00 AM
Interesting memories of the past..Reads like a winner to me..Enjoyed reading your bicycle days..The heat in Arizona to me was just horrible..I don't do heat very well so I am sure that I would not do Utah either..Thanks for stopping by..I don't know what kind of pear tree that you have..If it is the flowering Bradford pear it more than likely won't grow back those limbs..The tree is shaped for disaster to happen..There are so many scattered around here that have been damaged by the wind ..Sara
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Sara Kendrick
Date: 11/20/2015 9:20:00 AM
Sometimes those Bradford Pears will kind of fill in and not look so bad but usually they are left open to more damage or to rot because of the damage..Sara
Date: 11/20/2015 2:20:00 AM
You are amazing Andrea, this must have been a long time ago. Everything changed since the zombies took over. JK. I thought you were talking about Atlanta Georgia for a second there. LOL... LOVE SKAT
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Date: 11/20/2015 2:15:00 AM
Andie, love how you did not limited yourself on same format of having the first stanza first, great lines to begin with.. =`) very beautiful!! Enjoyed this!~Olive Eloisa =`)
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Date: 11/19/2015 8:36:00 PM
I love this from start to finish, Andrea! You are a true summer girl, sunshine and are right about my Songs of Power poem. It has the refrain like a quatern but doesn't adhere to the syllable count. (I didn't want to be restricted.) It's been so long since I've written, I'm still feeling rusty. Hugs, Rhonda
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Date: 11/19/2015 4:46:00 PM
This is a very write. Much enjoyable and intriguing...excellent..........A.M.
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Date: 11/19/2015 12:08:00 PM
Nicely described in this wonderful poem. love phyl
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Date: 11/19/2015 10:51:00 AM
what an experience of a lifetime, andie..solid write, ohhh..huggs
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Date: 11/19/2015 10:13:00 AM
Andrea I feel like I peeked in your diary, this just flows like a dream...:), jill
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Date: 11/19/2015 10:11:00 AM
You are POET! Extraordinary!
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Date: 11/19/2015 9:08:00 AM
wonderful my it all but the last stanza is my favorite...BG
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Date: 11/19/2015 8:38:00 AM
Intelligent and inspiring. As good a write as any writer anywhere. A fav for me.
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Date: 11/19/2015 8:25:00 AM
A very descriptive look into the life style. -flipping through nancy drew books...yep that was me too..;)
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