The Kelvin Bubble

I swore nothing would grow upon this soil again, in heat waves that made even the trees turn red, but you looked down and spotted sprouts, proved my pessimism fleeting.

You cursed and wished I’d find some sense of worth higher than the insects burrowed in the dirt, but I’ve been hurt and you’ve seen worse summers yourself,

felt what hell is yelling up
close and center,

even night skies drenched with
invisible embers.

I want us remembered for something more than warm bodies in a Kelvin bubble, stenciling our names in the sands with twigs, hardly subtle

to escape forests we rigged as ovens,
convince some distant breeze its immediate reliefs
would not be unbecoming.

Despite your sunny

I’m still running for the hills at sunrise.
I’ve had enough heat stroke to last
my lifetime.


One thought on “The Kelvin Bubble

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s