By Evelyn Reilly

I saw heat waves rising from the cars.

Red, blue, yellow, white and black.

Too bright for the sunset.

Too neon for a humming bird.

Too big for the vulture I see gliding on a heat current above my head.

We go home and hang out the laundry to make it rain.

Clouds come and I read.

Too soon the book is done.

So I put on my Keens to go outside and play.

The leaves rustle overhead.

Too late, I jump back.

I am already sprinkled in rain.

The sun is sinking and I remember the cars with the heat waves rising from them.

Red for the fire-like sun sinking behind the trees.

Blue for the dark sky that will be coming.

White for the clouds that are turning gray.

But the yellow and black is for the Sunflowers.