Heat Wave BY: Dianne Robitaille

In the dining room the candles

melt over themselves,

sticking to the dark


The heat presses on.

Large pictures look down

on the motionless room.

Humidity gathers,

suspended and still.

Little moves through

its blanketing mass:

The cat

behind the small floor fan

licks her paw

and reclines in submission.

She lies against the wallboards,

waiting for the coolness to reach

into her fur.

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