Walking to work in the evening,
the blistering humidity
lingering
with the weight of a millstone
fastened snugly around my neck.

Bicycles scattered on lawns
like crooked tombstones
in a graveyard.
No sounds of children on the street,
only the noxious humming
of air conditioners.

Earthworms dried to the concrete
in crazy geometric shapes,
crunching under my running shoes,
pulverizing to dust,
corpses in my tread.

Sweat trickles down my neck
in raging rivulets
feeding into one large river
that melts at the small of my back.
Winter never looked so good.