The haze settles
in
blurring the hills and
trees
a wet blanket
smothering
scattered thoughts,
slow movements,
sweat beads
ants on my skin
the curtain stirs
hardly a breath, slow
quiet now here without
children
a stuffy humid
mausoleum
with what seems suddenly like
all the time in the world
to think and to sweat
and none to live
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