Taken from the image used for my poem “Changing Seasons” on SpillWords

My earlier years were as hot and angry
as a California day in August
nowhere near the reprieve of Autumn

I was so uncomfortable in my sweltering skin
screaming at my mother to make her understand

Not until I was older did I realize she
was answering me with equal heat
not a dry heat like a normal So-Cal temperament
but the spitting of…