A free-verse poem about it being so blamed hot in Dallas yesterday. |
Glance at my Seiko while turning into Target’s parking lot. Four p.m. and no empty spots near the front door. Finally find one only a quarter mile out. Pull in, park, and step out into blindingly bright sunshine. After only a few steps, a blanket of heat like a down comforter settles over me – only I feel no comfort, just oppressive heat. The air is more than thirty degrees hotter than inside my car. Halfway to the entrance, the sweat beads atop my bald head and begins free-falling down my face. I can feel my T-shirt getting damp as well. I pass a black bird sitting on the branch of a small tree, his wings raised half-way and his beak open, gasping for air. He looks as hot as I am beginning to feel. He shouldn’t dress in solid black on such a hot day! I should walk faster to get inside. Heat waves radiate from the hot cement. The shirt on my back has gotten clingy. It has been months since I have been this miserable from the heat. The sun actually feels larger and closer than a week ago. Must be due to global warming! Why else would it be 93 degrees in the shade on April 22 in Dallas? Why else would summer have arrived this damned early? I pass a man walking the opposite direction who asks the proverbial, “Hot enough for you?” I roll my eyes and hurry inside to the air conditioning, knowing the parking lot will be even hotter on the walk back to the car. Today’s experience makes me dread how unbearably hot it will be when the real summer arrives months from today if it is already this hot in April – 93 sultry degrees in the shade! Please check out my ten books: http://www.amazon.com/Jr.-Harry-E.-Gilleland/e/B004SVLY02/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0 |