06.18.18

Written by Haley McNiffPhotography by Jenni Lien Asphalt breathing underfootSteam rising off the streetGhosts of rainstorms pastResurrected before my eyesThe blacktop a hot griddleConcrete answering sky withEach sweet affirmative “yes”Hissing itself off the sidewalkAll dust and heat and renewalHumidity you can taste orWear like a second skin asAll things baked in sunlightFor so many dogged dog daysBegin sizzling awake at lastThe pavement alive withMemory: driveway car washesSoap seeping from spongeRivers running tarred slopesTo thirsty reservoirs of cementAnd city streets hosed downOn midsummer mornings whenThe heat of the day to comeCan’t help but curl your hair onEvery bleary-eyed commuteAnd walking in the wake ofThe street cleaner’s planes ofWet tarmac unfolding likeEphemeral paths leading backTo some version of yourselfThat has done it all beforeHas been stupid with petrichorSomehow romantic in all itsFleeting whispers of the pastMaking all sunshower daysSeem as one and collapsingA lifetime of rainfall into aFew moments of warmthSunlight we carry within untilEach and every dry spell endsAnd we are all replenished