Kansas: Hot! 92 degrees at noon.
The heat wilts what energy I have. The garden grows in jungle swatches and sparse parched patches. My hair thins.
I'm at Z's. The a/c pleases me and the coffee's 'smoky'. The vase on the table has pink-violet zinnias and soft green bells of Ireland.
I'm collecting feather's. No red ones yet. I did find a pink one though. I think it's human ,.. subspecies unknown.
Time to call my sister and see whether she has lost any plumage.
IMAGES and THOUGHTS
The praying mantis, green short winged, attentive, poised by the water spigot, giving me the eyes.
Symphony: the fade of cicada, the crescendo of crickets still a month off, the multi-layered song of July ashes becoming August dust.
The itch, the scratch, the welts. August is the month that bites.
Warm lingering fragrance of who-knows-what, a muggy mix of July's leaving.
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