The heat pounds glossy hair
iron-flat; lungs gather dust
near the books, valley fever
in the fields. Students bend
their heads, earphones draped
& winking at the oblivious
teacher. Their assignment
is to scoop up silt-warm
irrigation water, examine it
under a microscope, & make notes
on what they see:
protists that scoot around too fast
for a lifetime, leaving blurs
on comprehension. A mite,
bigger than them by worlds.
That draws crowds -- to see something
that they know for sure
is some kind of bug, a real piece of life
and not a scratch on the equipment.
A grackle lights on the frond
of a leaning palm in the schoolyard
& shatters the air
with its polyphonic barks.
We all slow down. For summer.
For failure. For contemplation.