The weight of summer heat has arrived,
and quiet the mood, so somber,
as skies impart their endless blue,
and trees still, leaves like soldier lines,
straight and firm, a sign
of midday’s searing affront.
Harsh the heat we must endure,
shade sought for the living,
yet that stillness is unique and right
here in the scorched brown land,
and even birds rest, songs unsung,
till evening drifts to cool the throng.
Beaches filled with such relief,
water a sigh from all this heat,
and life ensues without misstep,
summer just another season
change a reason for joy,
regardless of the extremes.
For this brown land is ours to bear,
each change a beauty, each day so fair,
in a kaleidoscope of shifting,
the drift of mother’s whims
do lift our spirits high,
in this sprawling sun-drenched country.
And each summer harsh we plea for cold,
and in winter’s blight
we dream of summer’s soul,
but we all know the wonder in our life,
the pure and ancient spirit land,
where the dreaming tells
and living demands our whole.
Here in the brown land, our home.
Tony DeLorger © 2017
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