Vampires On a Hot Day

On hot afternoons, we live like vampires.
Each window closed, Venetian blinds pulled shut
against the sun and its penchant for heat.
Our house this way entombed, preserving cool.

Last night’s cross-ventilation of crisp air 
settles around us, redolent of stars’ 
distant brilliance in a clear sky, 
welcome insulation from solar radiance. 

Movements are conserved, appetite suppressed. 
We make indoors a crepuscular zone –
a contrived dusk that is safe from the day. 
Hours later, when twilight arrives in truth,
unshuttered, we open ourselves to darkness,
            and begin our business in earnest.