I’m not complaining. We’ve had a delightfully cool summer this year. But when the heat and humidity returns, it doesn’t take long to be frazzled and fried. Anyone who’s lived through a New York City summer doesn’t need this poem explained.
Humidity
I know I’m not a
plant.
I feel like a fish
breathing in a bowl of
liquid air that
drenches and drains.
While my green
friends soak up
the drippy atmosphere
and party.
I look
melted.
They look marvelous.
Guess that’s the upside
of humidity.
© E.M. Ramos 7/31/2009
2 comments:
Boiling water vapor? Or, ice dust, if it's cold. What then upside?
Love, Angel
The upside is all the beautiful plants and flowers that love the wet steamy weather.
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