Heat Stroke
Heat Stroke
It was a particularly balmy and oppressing
Afternoon towards the latter part of August.
So I retired for a brief nap and, to my disbelief,
I awoke some ninety-seven years later.
Spiders had displayed their architecture
Between my right earlobe and the rusty iron bedpost,
And a light layer of dust had gently settled
On the crevices of my paling, wrinkled skin.
I roused myself from this epic slumber, and
Hence noticed that my north facing window
Was slightly ajar. A sweet, cool breeze
Shimmied in through the partition, inviting me outdoors.
Clumsily I strolled down Culpepper Street
Attired in my thread-bare, faded cotton shift.
Expecting stares and looks of unease or disgust,
I collected mere indifference from those who passed by.
Only the clouds and the trees in the corner park seemed
To conspire; and as I strained to listen to their
Barely decipherable chant, it became increasingly clear that
Their whispers bespoke of a stranger come to town.
Copyright Tina Jordan All Rights Reserved
Image public domain via Pixabay
What the hell typa nap was that? Good read.
Your reply gave me a good chuckle :D Thanks for reading!! :)
Was this a dream? :)
Yeah either that or an alien abduction :D Thanks for reading!
It's actually an oldie from a book I self published a few years back :D
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STOPthis is a cross-genre prose poem and very nicely written and illustrated. I know how much time goes into writing and then choosing the right image. I appreciate the artistry here, but it may not be caviar for the general. Their loss. This is really good, Tina. You wrote real good for free :)
Thank you John! That means a lot coming from you :)