Low Impact

The sun is baking the asphalt

until the tar smells like a threat.

The neighborhood is holding its breath

in a heavy, yellow sweat.

I stepped on a shoulder today,

a tracing of a girl in the street.

Just chalk dust on the sidewalk

clinging to the leather of my feet.

She was lying down for a game

but it looked like a place where life stops.

I wiped the yellow off my toe

and waited for the first heavy drops.