Thursday, December 2, 2010

Anatomy of a Hot Flash

It is an ordinary dream
of persons and places
until her body
uncertain of temperature
struggles against unimagined heat
She leaves the dream
to tend a fire beneath her skin
and is catapulted
into a southern hemisphere
where a tropic sun scorched her skin
Three A.M. on the digital clock
Her fevered face
hot under her fingertips,
red, baked like the parched desert
Then in her belly
the heat simmers
Her skin responds
A cauldron
Beads of sweat
soak sheets
Stripped of a cover
she waits for this act
of passage
to pass
and whispers
enough


Linda Watskin

16 comments:

  1. Linda,

    You certainly have a way with words. There is (as I would imagine, pardon my ignorance as a man) such a sense of heat and discomfort clearly burning throughout the piece. Wonderfully done.

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  2. I remember it well... You have painted a wonderful word picture. In England, we call them flushes, but it's a misnomer - more than the face is red!

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  3. Linda,
    Well described hot flashes. Vivid imagery.
    Pamela

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  4. You make me happy that stage of life is over with!

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  5. Enough is right! Linda, you have made hot flashes come alive!

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  6. Oh darn, is it like that? You make it felt in your poem.

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  7. Great poem, Linda. I could feel the heat radiating from the molten core. Nicely done, and I liked that last line/ word. Enough!

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  8. She leaves the dream? Was wrenched from it, drenched! Love menopause poems!

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  9. Ah yes, the hot flash. What a perfect description!

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  10. You communicate the uprush so well, allowing this second male commenter a sense of the experience!

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  11. oh, boy. someone tell me it's a myth!! :)

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  12. Damned menopause! I am going through the exact thing right now...you described it perfectly!

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  13. Everything is material... which is sometimes its only grace.

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