The heat rolls in over winter,
shouting, Toss your jackets!,
spouting apricots and gin,
sprouting scents of morning rain.
If you ever got hugged by heat
before, you might think,
There she is, there’s my girl,
right on time and brassy as ever –
but for us frostbitten folks,
us froze-over slow-burners,
we sigh, roll up our sleeves,
and hope every morning it’s overcast.
It’s not “good old spring,” anyway.
Just some distant cousin.
Josh Fuentes is an editor and teacher working out of Maryland. He is currently compiling a series of poems about the illustrious King of Moths.