Heat in  General   

O wind, rend open the heat,
cut apart the heat,
rend it to tatters.

Fruit cannot drop
through this thick air--
fruit cannot fall into heat
that presses up and blunts
the points of pears
and rounds the grapes.

Cut the heat--
plough through it,
turning it on either side
of your path.

By H. D.

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Other poems by H. D.:

• At Baia
• Eurydice
• Fragment Sixty-eight
• Garden
• Heat
• Helen
• Helen In Egypt
• Leda
• Let Zeus
• Mid-Day
• Never More Will The Wind
• Pear Tree
• Sea Poppies
• Sea Rose
• Sheltered Garden
• Song
• Stars Wheel in Purple