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  • Writer's pictureAlice Wyatt

Verbs of Summer









fires rage

spinach bolts

the river shrinks

thermometers soar


winds scorch

tempers flair

sunflowers wilt

honey bees beard


fans whirl

ac strains

sunscreen squirting

bare shoulders burning


rain falls

ice cubes clink

goat heads emerge

water droplets dance




I awake to the news that fires rage just across the mountains in Ruidoso. Winds scorch across drought stricken forests as thermometers soar.


The river shrinks, eliminating our floating options. Cooped in the house as the fans whirl and the ac strains, our already short tempers flair. Outside activity requires copious amounts of sunscreen squirting and even then, bare shoulders burning is the norm.


Oh, my poor garden. All the spinach bolts, depriving the chickens of their tasty morning treat. Even the sturdy sunflowers wilt. The honey bees beard on the entrance of the hive in an effort to cool themselves.


The dreaded goat heads emerge as the rain falls, but we are so happy to watch the water droplets dance across the thirsty ground that we raise a glass and let the ice cubes clink in celebration.

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