A Humid Heat

A Humid Heat

A Poem by Josie E. Cook M. A.

" Worn out... "

A Humid Heat

Passing iron fences,

That surround the squares of lush green

Grass,

The rich's forbidden lawn,

With rhododendrons growing up the walks,

The heat beating down

Frying my brain,

Everything looks like it is shimmering

In the bright sun,

Cars parked along the street,

Their hoods and tops

Angrily throwing the sunlight

Back up into the sky,

I look through the grazed glare

Trying to find a place to sit

And cool down in peace,

Men climbing steps to higher

Places,

I grab a rail

Hoisting my tired legs up

And beyond the concrete

My strange gait showing my fatigue

As I see a cat perched on the windowsill

Staring back at me with curiosity

And maybe disbelief,

I'm incapacitated and shutting down,

My experience with this heat has

Given me a noonday headache,

Where bells are ringing in my head.

My dreamlike trance is the result

As I enter the coolness of the coffee shop

Seeking an ice cold drink,

I straighten my clothing and readjust

Only to see a long line at the counter,

Linen jackets and print dresses ahead of me,

They prevent me from finding the needed relief,

I go over to table and collapse,

No watching,

As I hear their droning voices,

I wait,

As a man folds his cuffs by the door,

I want distance,

I see the other side of the street,

Quiet there,

By a flowering terrace,

No roar or hum,

All directions in here are full of louder notes,

Too busy because I picked the wrong time,

Yet, I am out of the beating sunshine,

I gaze at the ceiling,

And look away,

It is an original design up there,

Not open to the sky or the light,

Another world where copper

Is found,

My seat is cushioned and soft,

I turn to a friendly smile,

"Here, drink this cool water, you look so

Wilted," she hands me the frosted glass,

My lips touch the ice floating inside,

My brow feels relief,

Suddenly, she is gone.

I drink the rest quickly,

My thirst is leaving,

I take in the shadows of the room,

It isn’t very large,

But, I feel far away here,

In a distant misty place,

But, the spinning has stopped,

There's a dim light reflecting from the

Wooden floors,

Reminds me of a glowing surface of a

Pond in the springtime,

Movement, she is back,

"Could you bring me some tea with lots of ice,

No sugar, maybe a fruity flavor,"

"Of course," she goes off,

Very kind, I feel lucky indeed!

--J. E. Cook (C) 2017

© 2017 Josie E. Cook M. A

Author's Note

Thanks!

Reviews

[Lizzie]

I actually pictured myself once upon a time when i was marketing in the heat i actually parked somewhere and started to observe my surroundings and saw birds the sun the trees and the lake and i couldnt help but think how thirsty i was ... i finally drove off and a woman said i looked flushed and tired but it was just from marketing it was from everything that i hadnt had a chance to sit down and acutally enjoy something anything no matter how small and i was offered a cold raspberry tea from that moment i drove back to the lake and took it all in happier than i did the first time.

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

Thanks, Lizzie.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very nice journey in your words leading to a good ending. A offer of a drink on a hot day. A true blessing. Thank you Josie for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[Josie E. Cook M. A.]

Thanks again for your thoughts! :)

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome Josie.