Poem 20160411

the sun sinks into my back
like hands kneading the muscles
every golden ray a finger prodding me
forcing warmth into the tissues
forcing warmth between my shoulder blades
which feel at last
as if they can ease apart
magnolia sweet and thick
summons the wind and floats to me
and i can almost close my eyes
how i hate summer

——

National Poetry Month
NaPoWriMo Day 11
Sensory Poem With a Twist