Monday, September 10, 2012

Late Summer Morning

The news of rain reaches my nose first
Dissipating dust, heat and the opening of plant pores waft into my bedroom window
Just above my half sleeping form

I become alert, breathe more easily as I cool and everything around me cools.

Between exhales of relief, the tension of hot days evaporating,
I grieve

Tomatoes, melons, children from my past, friendships with elders
That will never reach their full fruition.