Greg Budig 2020
Oppressively thick.
Bath water air.
A blanket of moisture
on a mid August day.
The atmosphere
is drenched.
A tropical
oppression.
Darkness has fallen.
Windows open wide.
Nothing moves.
Stagnant surroundings.
The fan hums softly in
an oscillating rhythm.
Moving the air with
endless white noise.
Before the days of
cool conditioned air.
Growing up inside
a house of many
different fans.
Considered a luxury,
an unnecessary thing.
You learned to cope.
Maybe a better
tolerance was needed
way back when.
Seemed we all
suffered together in
the moist aquatic air.
We had longer fuses.
We all had to adapt.
A guarantee of summer.
The dog days they
are often times called.
A time for teenage
fantasies of seeing
"them" at the lake.
Maybe only memories,
it still messes with my hair.
The End
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