Poem for Laurel

Away From The Weather

In panties & lavender tank
she stays inside away from the weather.

Bare essentials in the unflappable back room:
turned down bed, shuttered open window, speedy ceiling fan,

side table with lamp, book & brimming water glass. Under
the bed, flip-flops, dust & cat hair. She stays there

not moving, sweat pooling in the crevices behind her knees:
drip, drip – left hand, then, flat against protruding hipbone forming

right angle triangle, an odd lapse in a bad mood. She is not aware
her foot has gone to sleep. She is not thirsty enough to drink, bored enough to read.

When the phone down the hall begins to ring
she moves onto her side, swipes damp hair out of her eyes. Listens.

The phone stops soon enough. The fan whirs. Hot.
Flat on her back again, she thinks about being hot.

She pictures tubes of sunscreen, parasols. Ice cubes, swimming holes.
Mostly she thinks about weather.