In the South, it is necessary to be light of heart.
The air is an entity unto itself,
its heaviness all-encompassing.

The concrete porches shed skins of heat,
daylight malfunctions above the trees,
patches of sky stare,
blanks on the soul of heaven.

In summer sometimes scenery is everything,
without imposing itself like capricious, pouty Atmosphere,
swallowing all she meets down her hot throat,
savoring the squirm and tickle of each victim.

Those who escape her live out their moments
in the longing she induces,
her breath forever against their collars.

Nice Poem, thank you

Thank you for your time, and kind comment!

That was beautiful V...and being from the south, I know where you're coming from.

ahh

Great Job !!!

There in the south, different speech, hard to reach.
Hard to break through the poverty, hard to walk down some streets. Shoe shine man, hooker on the corner. This is the
land of the blues. Beautiful people, saying Yar'll come back now

I liked your poem very much. Welcome to the site, and keep
these words coming....

You are all very kind - thanks for all the support. Can't wait to read your next posts! Have a beautiful day!

Ah, the perspective lilts a little, doesn't it?

nicely done

welcome to the site

Beautiful.