Air so thick, it’s like inhaling clouds.
Sky a dirty grey, tree leaves dark matte.
Bird song hovers near the ground,
Unable to rise.
Airplanes make an unseen roar above us.
I feel soaked through, as if I could sweat
Cool water.

Please use the open space below to share your first 50 words on the topic “humid.”

Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

2 thoughts on “Humid”

  1. Where does my clothes end and humidity begin? No need for blankets, it covers my bed. My windows dissolve with it. My eyes are heavy with it, only my sunglasses can see. My doors melt away, My secrets are exposed by it. So now my tears become the mist also.

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