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Writer's pictureRoss McKeachie

October 12, 2022

Just turned the heat on

in my apartment.


October 12, 2022.


Still, no rains have come.


Very rare here.


We wait as long as possible

before turning the heat on.


This is the longest I’ve ever waited.


First time I’ve turned it on

when the sky is bare but for the sun.


Our bright golden beloved moves further away,

time spent on this side of town - less.

Slowly backing out of our lives

to spend more time with his other family.


Still, no rains have come.


I have never had to conserve water and turn on the heat, on the same day.

Never sought shade while breathing steam.

Never had Thanksgiving dinner on the patio.


Never said the words: “I’m loving this weather but it’s probably not a good thing.”


Never appreciated water before,

not really.


Now she has my attention.

I pray for her.

Prostrate.

Sing to her.

Savour her presence,

her sacred touch on my skin.

Take her in my mouth,

roll her around,

hold her on my tongue,

taste her,

ask her to join with me

in every cell.


Then I give her back to the earth

as a sacrifice.


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