Thick haze hangs over the green and white striped canopy
And I wait with you
Yesterday, the sun glared hot, and hurt
And we lamented over and over how tomorrow would be worse
But it is only heavy - and covered with a summer yellow grayness, which eases the sun's sting
And the breeze passes through consolingly
"It is still bad", you say
"Yes", I concede with a nod
You had longed for the more gentle side of the season, I know
And have not yet learned to find your own shade
You sit beside me waiting
Not telling me something you want to say
I ask in my subdued, partial sentences about what is wrong - and what you need
Just right - I think - for your age and sex -
Knowing how quickly I say too much these days
You just look ahead
Still and low
"It's hot", you say
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