The outside air looks blurred and gray.
Voices seem to come
at a distance.
All I feel is the warmth pressing in on me,
And I can’t breathe.
Coolness of water does little to temper the heat. Wave after wave passes by, until I am trembling from the saltiness on my skin and the unbearable rays of sunlight that keep
The emerald grass seems to wilt into stalks of
And there is nothing in the brilliant blue sky
except for the grayness that
keeps pressing in.
Temperatures have been rising the past few years.
We didn’t care.
And now that all that remains of our once coveted streams of river
are dry banks, filled with dirt, sand, and the remains of shells
from long-lost creatures who
to the never-ending heat.
There’s hardly any water left in me…
down my forehead.
So I lay in silence on the river banks,
wishing for the cold breeze of the ocean to
wash over me,
and wait for the sun
to take me away.