What I Brought Home

Summer comes hurtling towards earth on its heated equinox, an axis brought to a boil over months that travel at a fierce, flaming gallop.  Their intense progress swirls the sky into a seething panic.  And on its first day, the sun will bear night and day aloft at equal height, as Justitia holds the scales of justice.  The hours share the benefits of the new season, before autumn begins to claw its way towards its dark, harvest dominance.

I would venture out into the early summer evening, to watch the changing sky, the skeins of evaporating clouds, the caramel sun.  But when I returned, the only souvenirs I had were the constellations of mosquito bites on my arms and legs.  There was a cache of stars inside my elbow; burning recollections.  As I walked, I felt as if the remnants of that angry, heated day were seared into my skin…as if I carried shards of moons and stars back into my home.


7 responses to “What I Brought Home

  1. I saw the title and thought for sure this post was going to be about a cat. Oh well.

  2. If it was a cat, I wouldn’t do it so blatantly or advertise it! Pets are Verboten in my apartment complex.

  3. Pure wordidge
    You have my respect

  4. Now, I’m wondering how we could fit Zika into this wonderful, metaphorical construct. An unexpected asteroid, perhaps…

  5. When I was little, those pesky mosquitoes seemed relatively harmless, more annoying than dangerous. One heard of them carrying malaria far away in distant Africa. But now they seem to transport all sorts of viruses very close to home. I used to enjoy gardening in the morning but that seems to be when they are most active.

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