The weather is as stubborn as my chihuahua:
hot when it is supposed to be cold;
dry when rain was predicted.
It makes it difficult to plan
and I keep coming unstuck.

Today in cashmere,
I am itchy and uncomfortable
and I cannot help but scratch.
Red welts grow up on my arms
and my face dissolves into blotches.

Sipping water,
I attempt to cool down.
But it is all futile:
God is angry,
and the Devil wants to boil my brain.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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