Jan 15, 2021
1 min read
Summer Night
A poem
Warm damp air sits heavy on us
as we sprawl lethargic
in our tossed-and-turned beds.
It’s not so late
but the hours have crawled
and the breeze is still.
Silence hovers, the night is
bloated with humidity
Writer, teacher, editor, book lover — www.sherrylclarkwritingcoach.com is where I offer editing and manuscript development services.
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