As the heat
inched past 100
Our Northwest hubris
We don’t need air conditioning,
We can sit under trees

Melted away.

I couldn’t think
Couldn’t write
Wondered how people in the tropics
Do anything at all.

The birds slowed their singing
The dogs stretched on the floor
The horses, seeking shade,
Looked at me
As if to question

I had no answer
Not one I could give
The part I knew
Our part
I couldn’t tell them.

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