You Step Across the Outer

Close, dry, forward

You reach your hand toward the latch. The dawn is quiet, clear and bright. The shadows fall in hard clean cuts Against the softly spreading light. Your skin remembers what is coming Before your mind can trace the year. A gentle breeze from out the south Is moving leaves that hang up high. The heavy air brings damp and heat Beneath a pale and open sky.

Drums enter

You step across the outer threshold. The air has weight inside your chest. The grass is straw along the curb. The morning gives no time for rest. Warm Gulf wind drifts across the trees. The summer shines its sudden glare. Your body knows the daylight coming And all the heat waiting out there.

The shimmer rises off the road. The steering wheel will burn your hand. You plot your route from shade to shade Across the dry and baked-out land. The sound of distant voices carries Farther than it ought to go. The air is thick and damp to touch While cicadas layer down below. They stack their singing tree to tree In a relentless heavy hum. You feel the water in the sky And know the rain is soon to come.

You step across the outer threshold. The air has weight inside your chest. The grass is straw along the curb. The morning gives no time for rest. Warm Gulf wind drifts across the trees. The summer shines its sudden glare. Your body knows the daylight coming And all the heat waiting out there.

Building

White clouds are stacked along the edge. The windshields shine with blinding light. The south wind pushes through the branches After the short and gentle night. You feel the threshold underneath you. Your body remembers what it means. To feel the heavy summer morning Unfolding through the porch door screens. The sky grows dark with coming rain. The water falls on stone and street.

You step across the outer threshold. The air has weight inside your chest. The grass is straw along the curb. The morning gives no time for rest. Warm Gulf wind drifts across the trees. The summer shines its sudden glare. Your body knows the daylight coming And all the heat waiting out there.

resolve normally

The south wind shifts across the rooftop. The sudden rain begins to drop. The straw-dry grass drinks in the water. The loud cicadas never stop. You push the door and step right through it. You take the heat into your lungs. The daylight waits outside the hallway. The day ahead has just begun.

resolve normally