Hot, Summer Nights

rounding the bend
towards home
with windows down
to let moist heat
in the winds
tousle and whip my hair
towards my face

one hand on the wheel
the other
out the window
all five digits wriggling
in the invisible pressure
drumming to the beat
of the swirling music

pressures of the day
ease off my forehead
and slide away
from my body
the setting sun
inspires a smile
my essence at ease

Curled Up

woman sleeping
Photo by Ivan Oboleninov on Pexels.com

lazy sunday mornings
cuddles with flannel
and flesh
sly smiles
with closed eyes
and tousled about hair

where the toes
say hello
and reconnect
but the brain
hasn’t quite
arrived

giving in
to an abandoning
after six days of being on
succumbing to a fluid
unscheduled, unhurried
relaxed funk