Heat

My pores are confronted with the intensity

They open, and into the fibers of my being It comes

     All at once, as I step from climate control to out of control

     And then moment by moment, more slowly, more thoroughly

My body temperature, my emotional temperature both rise

     As I wind my way down the hill, out from the shelter of trees,

     Onto the black, which takes It and throws It back at me

I come to a stand still, and without the wind to disguise, It grows in size

    Becomes larger than life itself, consuming, violating all boundaries

    It joins in thick cohort with fumes, engines, thousands of bodies

I put up my face shield, take a deep breath and for a moment, wonder if I am overcome


But no...not now, I'm not

It comes into my lungs and finds something working, something living there

It comes in and settles...and can do nothing else

Because in all Its oppression, It really is only a vapor

     These lungs were meant for breathing

     These fibers for toughing It out

And so, though It taunts, eventually It can do nothing but yawn,

     A ferocious lion sleeping lazily in the afternoon.