Howling of Humidity
HOWLING OF HUMIDITY
No wind blows.
The sweat of a dandelion,
No seeds sold
To the gardener there.
No planting of pretty peacocks.
Umbrella wide above the sun,
Puddles gather but don’t sink
To the humid earth,
Dusty red and brown.
Flooded with handheld fans,
Flowers alive on origami paper,
Promises of windswept dreams
Of a lazy Southern sea and ice tea.
Kim Rodrigues © 2016
Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2016
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