the promise of heat, heavy
even before the sunrise.
There are no pillows of white
when the sky fades,
black to blue,
no potential for a parade
of light and shadow,
no respite from the sun's blaze.
We wake,
already wet with warmth
that colors our cheeks
and throws blankets
from our sleepy bodies.
The birds call out their protests
as worms burrow deeper
into the black earth.
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