Searing heat attests
its malignant summer smile,
stinging skin and burning deep,
our crusted shells too slight
for season’s harsh tirade,
guzzling ice and water binge,
racing for the shade.
Under tree in pensive stance,
summer day no hot romance,
just a bleak and coarse advance
to sweaty, drenched discomfort;
while even birds are hunched in shade,
panting beaks and eyes all glazed,
waiting for the evening.
Love the sun, hate gloomy days,
but this affront is here to stay,
and conditioned air is all that’s keeps
insanity at bay,
while naked bodies in bathes and pools,
avoid the rays by keeping cool,
but for me, locked in my room I’ll stay.
I pray for breeze at end of day,
the gloaming light to fade to night
and cool my beaded brow,
my heart so slow, my blood like glue,
quickly where’s my Morning Dew,
before my dehydrated body
fades way, and I just crusty flesh betrayed.
Oh, Summer, you are so harsh.
Tony DeLorger © 2016
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