24 Hours, Summer Day

The days are getting shorter, the heat less intense. This might be my last summer poem of the year.

24 Hours, Summer Day

The heat woke before I did
Complaining of hunger
Mewing life is misery, etc.
seeking

Sometimes I like it, the heat,
like other discomforts
Muscle aches and disturbing dreams
A reminder        things will get better

And of course, worse. Poking
through surfaces, a perfect storm
washing away a perfect day, floodwater
leaking into the limbic

The day went to work
Rain wanted to fall but didn’t
It was hottest at five
even as sun stayed out of sight

The streets were quiet. I decided
against Primitivo in favor of home
Cats and heat
Stuffed inside. And only then

Deluge, release
How lucky!
Coolness fell onto our position like liberators
beating the enemy into the hills

Halfway between the start of dream and morning
Cats woke before I did
Complaining of hunger, seeking
something:

Where is heat not yet returned?
Patience, I assured them
scooping food into their bowls
Things will change, for better or for worse

Ovid, the eldest