HVACs choir with our fan fanning  

the darkness on medium-high 

 

summer—a sleepless child—controls 

our bed      doing its kind of work—

 

turning a white cotton cover 

stitched in orange thread to a bear-

 

skin now vanquished folded over 

a chair      our sheets colorless damp 

 

with heat as we seek the portal 

of sleep somewhere within the fan’s 

 

white noise only to wake again 

alarmed      threatened      hillsides in flame