Sunday, July 26

A Scorcher (revised)

A Scorcher
I
sweat

Ahelgany and Monongahela
scorch down my face.

My lungs toil
as woefully inadequate
bellows
enslaved in the blacksmith's forge.

Air is exchanged
Breathing but a memory,
as the Sun continues its
aggressive  interrogation.

My body
blunted

in somber devotion
chisels fiery granite
blocks of heat
with each lethargic step I take.

Pressed to my brow
water and rocks fill
the goblet.

Precious droplets of well chilled
soothing elixir

Water.

More precious than Sovereigns.
More intoxicating than Absynthe.

Truckee and Shasta
resuscitate my soul.

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