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Heat Wave BY: Dianne Robitaille

In the dining room the candles

melt over themselves,

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sticking to the dark


The heat presses on.

Large pictures look down

on the motionless room.

Humidity gathers,

suspended and still.

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Little moves through

its blanketing mass:

The cat

behind the small floor fan

licks her paw

and reclines in submission.

She lies against the wallboards,

waiting for the coolness to reach

into her fur.

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