Heatwave

Puçol (València, Spain), July 2022

 

The scorching air of Summer
intends
 relentlessly to dry out
ideas, actions, will:
a turbid storm before the calm.

My body is combusting,
though no flame, nor smoke, nor light,
wrapped up in shivers,
far away, though sought after.

I am looking for refuge,
a shelter, some fresh air
to heal old wounds
and go forth into the future.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Hope

Easy

A Step Beyond

How I wish I were...

Carpe diem

Six Thousand Miles Revisited

A Walk in the Park

Tenses (A Grammatical Digression)

Don't Talk to Me

Witness