I was inspired to post today’s poem by the prompt at http://www.napowrimo.net/day-fourteen-2/ . I wrote this several years ago after a conversation with my cleaning lady. To hear me read it, click on the Dropbox link below the poem.
“It’s going to be hot forever,”
she says on a sweltering July day.
“seventy-six degrees in San Diego,
a hundred and six here. Maybe by Thanksgiving,
you’ll be able to cook your turkey indoors,
but the climate’s getting warmer.”
“Not in Wyoming–She’s full of it,” I tell myself.
“Take what she says with a grain of salt.”
As she leaves, she says,
“It’s a hundred degrees. Don’t go out.”
“You probably shouldn’t be out, either,” I say.
“Why don’t you stay?”
She snickers–the kitchen door slams.