My husband doesn’t want to move
from the front row at the tractor
pulling contest in the community park.
I feel like a picked dandelion
drooping in a juice glass.
I worry that my feet in sandals
will burn without sun block
My scalp sweats under my cotton hat
My lips feel dry, my throat parched.
I’m hotter than a desert rock in Death Valley.
He says I don’t need to sit there.
So, I beat a retreat to the beer tent
sit and relax at a table, comparing
notes with two old farmers about
how hot we are. Suddenly I am hit
by a rush of feelings about being married.
I am inclined to like it. After a while,
I buy chicken dinners, cold pops,
give my husband his and return
to my spot in the tent. Eating
and drinking, I listen to the announcer
but I watch my husband, enjoying
our bond. Suddenly he stands up, comes
my way, saying we can leave anytime I want.
Candace A. Hennekens is an artist and writer living near Fall Creek, Wis. Her summer art gallery is called Swallow Nest Art Gallery. For more about her , visit http://www.candacehennekens.com