No Breeze Intrudes

A poem.

No Breeze Intrudes This bench provides
no cooling moment,
not even a whisper
of air, as a mustache
beads across my lip,
and I feel a certain
feathery tickle, then
a trickle on my back,
consider swimming
through this morning
soup, moving carefully
from shade-to-shade. – Robert L. Brimm