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The Hot Seasons


few would ever own
few rarely ever see
the years
the drubbing hours of
the hot seasons that have lived through me

every ten years they come
encouraged to arrive right when
the temperatures rises
the moon dives down to the earth
tides turn
winds are relentless
even when you don't hear them
speak and complain

and my heart begins to believe
it won't ever possibly mend again
then I feel the rain on my face
a whole deluge of it
but none of it is falling

every ten years
predictable
with teeth and claws
the heat drags itself in
reminding me
how life can mean continual compliance
how
I'm destined to repeat
like-trials
how
I must do much more than pass/fail
then win

failing cannot be  an option
or
the heat will wing victory
over me
as surely as the grass turns brown
and forests burn
as surely as a crow opens its mouth
to gulp in air to cool itself
as surely as the madmen fill  cloudless skies
with bizarre embroidery webs of vapor
oozing
a child's watercolor tilted
down upon us

how a little Lot of pain must disperse
as if we've purchased it
but it has all the rights
and if we struggle and wade through
flailing
hoping we will learn to swim
and
waiting for the cool of autumn
the change

I've had at least
six hot seasons
my unlucky number
but I would have preferred
six summers

in the night
mirrored
I see them peering
in the twitching glances of my eyes
I know their whisperings in my restless sleep
they tell me I am theirs to keep
those monsters
those devils
the hot seasons.


LEGAL COPYRIGHT 6;41 AM PST AUGUST 15 2018 TIME DATE STAMPED
FOR THIS POEM/AND ALSO FOR THIS WRITER MELISSA A HOWELLS
AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGALLY COPYRIGHTED SITE TITLE-
MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD.

1966/1976/1986/1996/2006/2016





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