Happy Heat
Happy Heat
I had no Huck Finn
sort of existence except
for summertimes
at the lake.
Walking the state road,
tar melting like licorice
as I worked it with my shoes.
air shimmered ahead.
Sure I saw puddles,
I was always fooled.
Upon approaching the enigmatic sizzle,
it was dry as a bone.
Now I step back into youth’s
mirages where life was glucose,
easily digested, and I never looked
behind except to see how far I’d come.
In my place of distance,
the simple sound of leaves
in the wind flailing to escape
undulating branches brings me back.
Oh I am happy now
…. Yet…,
Then….
forward was limitless.
Today the future is slightly bound.
Pretend puddles puzzle me still.
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