Wall like the back of an oven in the middle of summer
Waiting for the soles of my feet to catch the heat shimmer
Stride like a mirage through the city breaking open
Fold my hands not in prayer but because they will fledge
Catching the thermals of my passing, stirring the air
Until the street is batter and rise, bubbles and ocean
Salt burning the edges of my eyes and sinuses
Screaming over the pulse, shoved upward
Into the sky.
Sharing today with The Sunday Muse and with Poets United. Today's gratuitous picture of Merlin is to the right...the temporary reprieve of heat & humidity is over here on the outer rim of Houston and he's back to finding the tile ever so much friendlier to his belly than the pillow. Little does he know today is going to be another episode of Riding in Cars For No Reason...we're trying to get him to be a better car dog...there may be pics of that in upcoming posts. Sorry. Meanwhile, there was more inspiration yesterday to get beyond this ridiculous bout of no writing--we visited a local author fest at one of the hotels near the airport. It was a good example of what kind of good sanctuary writing can provide--nondescript hotel exterior, iron gate, tight parking lot...and then a tucked away, cool banquet room filled with friendly people telling interesting stories. I may have come away with too many of those stories, but I was struck by how many mother/daughter writing pairs there were, how many people write within broadly local settings, how many poets are re-imagining metaphors. I'm grateful for the opportunity to visit with others who do this much more bravely than I do. :)
-- Chrissa
Oh, i enjoyed this, Chrissa. Great title! Sounds like an interesting event, likely to spark some good writing.
ReplyDeleteThis is beautifully written, Chrissa. I'm parched! I hope Merlin makes friends with the car soon. It can take him so many exciting places!
ReplyDeleteOuch! The image of the her feet flaming (and shimmering, of course) boils us such a reaction. The world is so hot right now, nothing escapes... not even ink.
ReplyDeleteI love the image of rising and taking flight your beautiful poem evokes! Lovely writing Chrissa, and i look forward to hearing more about the author fair.
ReplyDeleteWonderful images here! I feel the joy in the rise!
ReplyDeleteI often miss Texas, but not this time of year!
ReplyDeleteWow, that heat is vividly evoked! The author fest sounds wonderful.
ReplyDeleteOh her simmering feet! But I remember my feet burning away on the hot pavement as a child. l love the rising in this.
ReplyDeleteYou've imbued this piece with a wonderful mythic quality and expressed the scene with such clarity and eloquence so that … I am on the pavement … hot - very hot … as I take in the 'flight'.
ReplyDeletegreat imagery, can almost feel the heat of your town over here. though 'over here', at the tropics, it is insanely hot out in the sun. the fields are brown and people hide in air-conditioned malls. the weather is taking its revenge.
ReplyDeleteThis is a flight born of necessity, heat providing the fuel as well as the reason for wanting to flee. There's a lot of wisdom in taking unwanted energy and transmuting it to an energy that serves us instead.
ReplyDeletePoor Merlin! I hope he learns to be OK with car rides soon. My dog is pretty OK with them, but he's OK with lots of things as long as he gets a treat. Yay for hanging out with like minded folks. That usually kick starts my muse.