Humidity Once every few years (maybe every year?) There comes a humid summer of  desire: Kids flaunt uncovering clothes and rip a beer, Younger teens test their part-discovered fire; Then sun and sweat break like waves on a reef, Hands brush, eyes laugh, lips smirk - A roll of thunder, and the pool is closed… The kids pair off with interchanging clothes And who the hell can concentrate on work! Robin Helweg-Larsen If you've any comments on this poem, Robin Helweg-Larsen would be pleased to hear them.