All day the air molecules thicken and swell. They press the scent out of the pores of living things until the atmosphere is intoxicated with their heavy cologne. Distances bend and blur. My brain is a sluggish sea cow rolling in the murky waters of the Amazon.
Now as the earth turns its face from the sun it releases a deep sigh, redolent of honeysuckle. Still reeling from the day's swollen fever, I rejoice in the fall of light, in shadows and cool breezes.
I am comforted by the knowledge of Everest's unmelting snows, of heatless light glancing off of arctic glaciers.
I envision a child's model of the solar system and plot the trajectory of my own spot on the globe.
Away from the sun's smothering scrutiny.
Leaning wistfully against the cold shoulder of outer space.
1 comment:
Dude, this is so beautiful.
Post a Comment