The sun woke with a bite,
an ominous, dull rage,
seeping quietly into flesh,
announcing a harsh and errant day,
as if all kindness wept for loss
and bitter dry heat at great cost
would rule our waking hours.
An opened door alarm,
did send the day packing,
a choice to stay inside,
in shade and cool attracting
an indolent day, far from that sun,
that orb so far outreaching
its usual giving light.
Blistering, oppressive heat,
reminds us how complete
that nature has her way,
to steal the day and keep us where we stand,
in homage to her grand powers,
her life-giving and taking hours
often more than we can take.
And so today,
I write in the shadow of her wrath,
that bite too much to grasp,
and I feel her dark mood,
her crisp and searing brooding,
and sky bereft of plumes,
pale under the red affront.
Conditioned air my savior,
as if a snow filled room,
my eyes closed resumes a halcyon moment,
and bide my time I must,
till that sun decides to dust a horizon,
and a cool breeze may soothe the scorch,
as I just sit and watch the night prevail.
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