1 min read

Late Summer Tanka 2017

In oppressive heat
it swirls, and I realize
why Ash Flies are named:
it gets in my eyes and stings,
and sneaks inside through the cracks.

I stare straight at it,
the red sun, muted by the
sweltering ash clouds.
On my bike, I breathe through my
nose, and try not to cough too much.