The air was air and the breath was breath.
The skies were blue and the mornings fresh.
Walks in early summer, so invigorating,
‘Til the soup came and spoiled everything.
 
Air’s so thick, so slow, so lazy.
Sitting still like a tired old lady,
So gray, so soupy, so silent, so whist,
As the sunshine hides from the misty mist.
 
Tropical ancestors carried away the air,
From southern climes to places everywhere,
Northward ho in buckets by the thousands,
On the backs of slaves to the very end.
By mid September again we shall breathe,
When the air returns with the autumn breeze.
“Hold still my friend and please don’t fret.”

As featured in "The Belt and Beyond" magazine

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Robert L. Martin
over 1 year

Hi Nelson. I used to live in Los Angeles. The soup sure gets thick out there.

Robert L. Martin
over 1 year

Glad to hear from you again, Charlotte. How have you been doing?

Robert L. Martin
over 1 year

I guess we're lucky here in America.

Charlotte B. Williams
over 1 year

Hello Robert, I know all to well what you mean.

Nelson D Reyes
over 1 year

So many soupy climes on planet earth. One time on a bus ride, air conditioned, from Chengdu to Beijing I covered my face with a white hand towel. In a couple of minutes there was brown stain on it! Just one aspect of a soupy day.
Like. Thanks Robert.

Nelson D Reyes
Nelson D Reyes
over 1 year

Manila, Beijing, LA...smug, pollution galore!

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Charlotte B. Williams Nelson D Reyes
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