Mid Summer Mourning

In mid summer, when the streets
Sag under hot tires and flip flops
The day awakens groggy
Disoriented

Reaching for that second
Cup of coffee she sighs
As she sweats
Sitting by the window fan
She recalls a sad memory

Her hand drops into her lap
The coffee looses its flavor
The artificial breeze no longer delivers relief

Wails from a passing fire truck
Bells from a distant steeple
Cries from a cranky child
Sighs from a parent locating yet another ounce of patience

We each arise to face the mid summer mourning

MMN Tisha b’Av