During a Heatwave

Poetry 1 Minute 
You step out into the yard,
feel the heat’s weight descend on you.
The grass is warm, dry between your toes.

You think about how the only way for an individual to escape
the effects of climate change is to add to it —
a never-ending cycle that you may not live to see humanity escape.

You check the weather app
every five minutes
to see if all of this is even real.

You try to read a book on the couch,
feel the heat seep in through a gap in the caulking of the window,
fight the temptation to sleep.

You try to think about cold things, because it worked
for Gus in that one episode of Recess you watched as a kid;
it does not work for you here.

You imagine what you would do if the power went out,
whether you would secure what cold you’ve collected inside, run away,
or just lie down and wait for the sun to consume you.

Ninety-three degrees in your apartment at 10 pm.
You scramble to turn on and adjust every fan inside.
You cannot find any air.

Published by M. Espinosa

He/they. I teach English at a junior high school in western Washington. Outside of work, I worry about a myriad of things and spend time outside.

Published

14 thoughts on “During a Heatwave”

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