Outside, early summer heat stifles
the mind, bakes a hard crust
upon the brain beneath straw lids—

eyes roll and detach within flashes
of white light, falling towards delirium:
I cannot breathe or see connections,

I cannot think, I cannot write.
Small comfort that I am not alone
within this fuzzy circumstance.

Harassed by a squadron kingbirds,
a Great Blue glides and lights
upon the gravel, stands tall

to claim any open space,
grounded for battle. All supposed
sentiments have escaped to shade,

gone north to cooler climes.
Summer in the San Joaquin,
a damn hard time to write.


4 responses to “BEFORE SOLSTICE

  1. Peter Notehelfer

    Hot enough to melt the asphalt when I was a boy in Turlock . . .

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Caution. As you know the heat and sun can be a killer. I debate within myself, a hat blocking the sun verses adding/trapping more heat to the head. The hat wins most of the time.


    • Without the straw, I’d have another kind of white-light mental meltdown, plus leg and hand cramps. Water, water, water. Got to get to the shade before noon. Bringing the last of the calves to be weaned off the hill this a.m.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.