Relief

Sitting in the heat

Waiting for the next breeze

To blow your way

You ignore all else:

The air that only seems to grow thicker

Draw closer

Until it nearly stifles your next breath,

The stickiness of your own skin,

Even the bead of sweat

Forming at the base of your neck

Right on the hairline

Though you know it will soon

Slowly

Crawl down your back.

 

You brush all that aside.

(At least your try.)

You focus your complete attention

On that breeze

That you know is coming.

You wait.

 

It comes

Softly

With no warning or fanfare

To deliver sweet relief,

Your reward for all the waiting,

Just as you begin a contented sigh

It goes.

It’s gone.

 

So you’re back to waiting

For that next breeze

The next bit of relief

That you know is coming.

It’s the knowing that gives you the strength

To endure the heat

Even as another sweat bead

Forms on your neck

And prepares to crawl.