In Air So Slow
My summer break. . . I’ve slept in late;
I wake to find a yellow glare
of sunshine through my open blinds.
And night of rain has left me heir to lethargy,
for once I’m dressed,
I barely make it down each stair.
I trudge out to the patio
to lounge in my umbrella chair.
I cannot sit there very long.
My clothes stick to me everywhere.
Humidity has made her play
for Mr. Sun, and their affair
is heating up to maximum.
Their passion now has robbed my air.
Listlessly I rise to strip
down to bra and underwear;
I figure since the yard is fenced,
what the heck! My top I’ll bare.
I set the sprinkler on me too
and sit, eyes closed, without a care.
I hear a sound; next thing I know
my eyes meet those of a frightened stare.
Giggling comes from above my fence
while I grab a shirt to hide my “pair.”
In air so slow, the boy runs fast,
and as he flees, I’m well aware
that I just played a major role
in neighbor boys’ Truth or Dare!
(by the way, pure fiction, did I fool anyone?)
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010
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