August 2016

I thought
it was August heat
smothering us,
making bedclothes stick
and sleep
an uncomfortable
tangling together.

The air-conditioning was poor,
the unit beyond repair,
vents placed too high
on the wall to be useful,
leaving us to swim
in a dark well of summer sweat.

We threw off the sheets,
kept the blinds closed,
the curtains drawn,
believing darkness
would keep us cool.

When you sought relief
in a room down the hall,
I chalked it up
as a quest for comfort,
but you found
the air in that room
just as suffocating
as the one you left.

Even after a portable A/C
cooled the night for sleep,
you complained:
about its size,
the sound it made
while it ran all day,
the traffic noise in the street,
the voices of children
at the nearby school,
and the heat — an August heat
that even the arctic
couldn't cool.

© Wittenberger, 27-2-2018