Even the birds
 
even the birds were still
it was one of those breathless
summer evenings where nothing
stirred.  it was hard to think or
move in the lethargy of the pooling
heat.  a storm was obviously brewing,
why else would it feel as if all life
had stopped?  even the lemonade,
mint eaves floating among the
ice chunks, swirling with the silvers
of lemons did not seem able to keep
that coolness as the ice melted almost
before the cool came in the tall clear
glass.  it reminded me of a southern
movie.  large old stand of giant oaks
drooping against the southern heat.
huge darkened ceiling fans ticking
against the waves of humidity,
mopping brows with white linen
hankies, dreaming of a cool late
september evening while putting
more ice and mint in the tall glasses.