Heat meant
so many
different things
before the pile
of years filled
my pockets
to over flowing-
it made a luscious
aroma of turkey
on Thanksgiving,
and a welcome relief
for for cold hands
chilled from making
snowballs. It meant
the arrival of fall
with the clanging radiators,
and the occassional fever
before antibiotics, when
a steamer coated raw lungs
back to ease.
Heat was a warm wrap under
a full moon on a summer night,
where new loves talked foolishly,
about dreams that never come true.
Heat, now means something
to be endured, with humidity
that calls for health alerts,
and a slow life that pampers
aging bodies,with run down batteries.
The haze hangs like a lamp shade
over the earth, imprisoning
ambition and, kidnapping appetites.
Summer in Philadelphia
is a burden that weighs heavy
with a pocket full of years.

06/25/2002

Posted on 06/25/2002
Copyright © 2025 Jane E Pearce