TheBanyanTree: ZEPHYR

[Sharon Mack]

ZEPHYR
 I push the window up.It barely moves at firstrevealing only a small crack,barely visible above the scarred sill.I push the window harderand feel the swollen, old wood give in at last. At first I feel its reluctancefor it has been untouched,unmoved, uncared for,for so many years now. The ancient dark green,cracked paint splintersinto my hands, and I shake the pieces away only to findthat they are stuckto the sweat of my palm. To the top of the frameI push the pane. The window openingwide at last,finally allowingthe soft smooth air of a summer's night brushacross my face andmove softly into my hair. Cooling, curling,emptying the room of old gray smells.It's touch on my neck,on my heated breast,is soothing as itdries and liftsthe accumulated sweatof a long hot summer's day.  © Sharon Mack 2005