the day after my parents left
is when the winds finally fell
we had been waiting for weeks
for those below-eighty breezes
i found myself under the
thin blanket for the first time
not to protect myself from the chill
but because it was the first time
in a month that i even could stand to be covered
(those who have never lived in climes
of monsoon and drought do not
understand the novel pleasure
of sleeping under covers)
i had left my homeless home
at a time of sweaters and rain
heaters and heavy blankets;
everything was heavy just then
last year i was gone
for most of the cold
it is tempting to keep running
from too cold to warm
from too hot to cool
this year i will stay
light fires, wrap myself in layers,
protect myself from the rain
dream lazy memories of dusty heat
narinda heng 