The sky bleached to white by heat while the wind blows furnaced air
Drawing the last moisture from leaves and crisping the lawn
As we sit in machine conjured comfort searching the heavens for clouds
Wishing for rain to pull us outside and gleefully jump in puddles
"crisping the lawn" has great aural appeal, as does "machin conjured comfort." I want to roll the words around my mouth.
ReplyDeleteI'm with Cameron, I absolutely love the "machine conjured comfort." Such a poetic way of expressing the mundane! Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThis was great! I think I'm a bit of a masochist for reading it while my city's in the middle of a heatwave, but I loved it nonetheless! What a great way to express it!
ReplyDeleteThis pulled me into your world and had me feeling the dry heat of which I spent most of my life until moving out to Georgia. Now I feel I will expire from the humidity. ;P
ReplyDeletePeace,
Morgan