81 Degrees, 6:18 A.M.
Can’t quite get a breath
this first day of summer
cloying comes to mind,
sweet to the point of sickening,
talls trees sway, an invocation
for rain.
On my phone Instagram shots
from my traveling grandson
Glacier National Park, steep
granite mountins, peaked
with snow, icy turquoise water.
A peephole escape from this turpitude,
this miasma.
10 thoughts on "81 Degrees, 6:18 A.M."
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Great glimpse from you to him!
Quite a contrast, huh?
Yes, wonderful comparison. Too bad we don’t have phones that can send the cool air through to us! Love the “icy turquoise water.” I went to the Farmer’s Market on Sunday and was as wilted as some of the vegetables lying in the sun!
polar opposites
My comment is better at either place than here! 86 @7:00 feels like 100.
Certainly your poem captures beautifully the contrast of where you are to your grandson’s current locale. I love the second stanza and the ending.
My comment is better at either place than here! 86 @7:00 feels like 100.
Certainly your poem captures beautifully the contrast of where you are to your grandson’s current locale. I love the ending , the second stanza, all of it!!!
Thanks Bev, just fun to ventilate
Been to Glacier National Park; great contrast and connection to grandson.
Love the word choice in this one, especially in those last two lines. They really hammer in the comparison made in the poem.
Thanks Philip