Tuesday, May 31, 2011


The air is a hot
still blanket.
It fills my lungs
with the opium
of summer.
I drift.
Bird song is a
I can’t ignore.
I breathe it in
with the warm air
and drift.
Closing my eyes
I inhale verdant
and exhale pain.
Liquid bones
don’t groan
as they greet
one another.
They float
in that same
felted heat
I drift.

This is a one shot Wednesday poem. Go here to check out other poets.


  1. well you obviously have the same weather we have had the last couple days...breathing burns...and so do my shoulders...will be keeping my shirt on in the coming days...

  2. It'll be so worth getting that hip fixed!

    Your poem was, well, beautiful and haunting.

  3. Dear The Bug,
    This reminds me so much not just of pain, but the euphoria when pain goes away.

    Very Imagistic and sensual. I think Ezra Pound would be proud.

    Thanks for sharing!
    Ann T.

  4. Oh, I wish! Beautifully done.

  5. You have beautiful language and imagery in this poem, Dana. Well done.

  6. You are so ready for that hip surgery! The mugginess here has been awful too. Feels like August! Ick!

  7. you make it sound like nature and sunshine is your drug of choice ...love it thank you

  8. Yes the heat is anything but sweet
    And your write about it was really neat
    The weather can cause grief
    Or it can make you content as you watch a falling leaf
    Enjoyed the read
    Really nice indeed

  9. I found myself drifting along with you....
    I do enjoy warm weather!

  10. i could relate in too many ways. . . scary :-) nice read.

  11. and so it begins.

    the heat and humidity have arrived early this year but my ferns are in heaven.

  12. Those hot steamy summer-like days of spring sure takes the breathe out of you...nice write.


Thanks for stopping by - I'd love to hear what you have to say!

Book Reviews – the August Edition

I’m not sure what happened in August, but I only finished three books (and one of those was a devotional for Enneagram 9s that I was suppose...