Anita Mechler: Summer Poem [repost]

Drinkers with Writing Problems

Wind caresses

like a sweet lover’s

fingertips

trailing over the fine hair

of my arms

and along my bare legs

a tendril sensibility.

I feel I’ve earned

this love

after the vast bleakness

of a cold

hard

winter.

Every gentle ray of sun

a reaffirmation of my place

in it

in life

in love.

My hair brushed aside

by a caring unseen hand,

touching

along my cheek

a reunion of sorts.

Just as the life span

of a housefly

I bask in its temporality.

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