73F early morning--
sign of a hot Sunday.
no rainstorm is forthcoming
until the distant Wednesday.
No plan to go out--
breathless under face cover,
heatstroke when walk about.
What has become of me?
On a crowded ramshackle bus I used to travel
37C without air conditioning.
Under the blazing subtropical sun I used to battle
with homework and chores when sweats trickling.
Why thinking about the past?
Now it's a new kind of struggle.
The pressure of life shifts at last
into new pains of a new riddle.
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Published by haoyando
reading and writing slowly
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