Accumulation

The heat finally quit its nagging.

I flipped the switch to reverse the spin

and watched a piece of the summer

land on the pillowcase.

It’s a greasy kind of velvet,

this fur that grows on the edge

of the wooden blades while we sleep.

It doesn’t blow away. It holds.

I should have wiped it down in June,

but the air was moving too fast to see

what was being collected

above our heads.