Not a Breath of Air

Usually, hot days are not a problem at the cabin in the north woods, especially with a breeze. But when there is no air movement at all and the temps are in the 90s, it becomes a tad uncomfortable.



Not a Breath of Air


A painting, a Winslow waterscape
outside my morning window.

A brown-porcelain barge
and biscuit figures idle on the far shore
of a lake brushed with lily pads.

Blanc-de-chine gods drift
between branches in fog-draped trees.

Too soon,
the bull-beating heat of the sun
dissolves the tableau, sweats the jug
and settles itself on my deck:

an unwanted caller dawdling
on Adirondack chairs. My tumbler
of ice water shimmers.



Marilyn Aschoff Mellor