Heat Wave

I used to love that song sung by Martha and the Vandellas. Just thinking of it brings back long hair, granny dresses, halter tops, and Jimi Hendrix. The temperature climbed into the 90s today, making it feel like August instead of late May. Not acclimated to the heat, I found myself longing for January and the silence of falling snow instead of the bird calls and insect noises I hear these days in early morning. And that's how it is. No matter what we find around us, there is always something else to yearn for--the unreachable moment,place, relationship. The school year is winding down and I can actually think about long writing days stretching in front of me. I will continue work on my collaborative collection of poetry as well as another collection and fiction and nonfiction in process. It's all a part of the rhythm of my life--this change with the seasons. When the heat finally breaks and spring returns, I will carry the warmth within--a reminder of AM radio, ragtop cars, long days, and the thrill of two months of relative freedom from the structure of the rest of my year.