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.
A Hot Sunday Morning
Published
