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.

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