The Sun's Day Off

The summer wind called me once more
because it wanted to talk to me
about you.

For the first time, I refused.

The Sun ought to have a day off
from this alternate universe that
wore brown and blue on the last minute
as it realised The Black would have
been invisible to you anyway.

Besides, the air conditioner has not
been working for several yesterdays
and although the warmth may not challenge,
certainly, the smell of bodies will.
Perhaps, on Friday...

I hope you are sleeping.

I wish you were dreaming of all
the wonderful things that you've touched
and, even if it is just in your mind,
you hear their gratitude—
whatever they are.

When you go back to your senses,
I pray that the summer wind visits you, too;
and talk about me, and share the secrets,
and confirm that what is in your heart
has been delivered.

I hope you are sleeping.
I wish you were dreaming.
I pray.