Evening Breezes | #73 Black&White

B&W storm cell hovering above distant trees
Storm Cloud

 
“Evening Breezes”
 
white light, hot black sand…
storm clouds race the sun to speed
afternoon toward night

Copyright © 2015-12-01,
by Lizl Bennefeld.

 

I was only a substitute lifeguard maybe half a dozen afternoons, filling in for my younger brother, and I hated it. The hot sand and hotter asphalt, a dry heat that fostered sweat until the body had none left to shed. Tree branches, winds, a rainstorm, or even thick clouds in the distance might block out the sun’s heat. And if there were lightning, then the beach was closed and all the swimmers had to go home.

{Don’t tell anyone, but . . . I then would go out into the middle of the river, and sit beneath the cool water pouring over the dam, just beneath the lip of the dam, where there was a slight recess. It was wonderful!}

While in junior high and high school, I much preferred my summer job as one of the assistant groundskeepers at the village cemetery. Grass doesn’t radiate the heat, the young trees scattered among the rows of graves provided shade, and the well was nearby with water for trees and flowers and thirsty workers.

Lizl

 

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12 thoughts on “Evening Breezes | #73 Black&White

  1. So here I am again 🙂
    I thought I would show you what you’ve inspired …

    Stormy Clouds

    The black clouds threaten to fall down
    Settling a heavy weight on our shoulders.
    Covers of wet, watery droplets are flying
    Through the air, drawn as thin as my nerves.
    A sound of resentment is roaring across the sky
    Which we truly believed to be our safe heaven.
    Hand in hand, we are waiting. Nervously patient.
    If we are going to be crushed… at least not alone.

    And so we waited. And we still are waiting. Nothing happens.
    Sundown, sunrise. The storm passed by solemnly.

    I love the picture. I love your little writing. I love the story you shared to go with both.
    You know,.. there’s a small stream nearby where I just love to go when it’s raining outside. I just sit there on a stump and watch the raindrops being eaten alive by the stream’s water.

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Thanks so very much for sharing the poem here, also. I love it! I know about the rain…watching it, walking through it, being in it. And oh, yes, the raindrops in the river’s water and the fish dancing just beneath the surface.

      Like

  2. Lovely poem. I find it intestine in graveyards myself. Often wondered what kind of person and what kind of life they had. There is a church grave yard (a still active church) that I wandered in once. There was a family plot, I dug up their history on the Internet and it was facinating. They lived during the time of the British and owned most of Queens and Long Island. Facinating. A great post!:)

    Liked by 1 person

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