before the others are awake
and the swan still curls.
That same sultriness is in the air here today
but not the relieving ocean breeze
june bugs not lightening bugs
nary a cloud
just a steamy whisper.
When I borrowed the title from Andrew
twisting it up a bit in those sheets
it was winter
the likes of which I could only
paint myself out of.
Today we are packing
Herself comes to tell me that she has remembered the linens
I have the business of this writing to get on with
participles to dangle
and so many layers.
But my heart is already there
laying back on the bluff
actively letting go
and letting in