Hot!

HOT! HOT! Inspiration? Low Humidity? High very high One really doesn’t feel like writing poetry But what does one do on a hot steaming day? I’ll tell you what one does not do – Work! Oh it’s a day for invention Conjure up something not too taxing on the brain Even the thought of mental effort is painful so Here goes There is a peaceful verdant cool valley Between two snow-capped mountain peaks – Mount Serene and Mount Bliss A frothing bubbling murmuring stream runs happily through a meadow I can hear the Tonkawonka song it sings as it splashes against the rocks (The Tonkawonka were a local Indian tribe now no more) It is beside this stream I have spread my Indian blanket set down my small ice chest just across the stream almost obscured by the rushes a young deer bows its head to drink I lazily uncap a cold beer – take a sip WONDERFUL! I lean my head back against a willow stump and Dream Not a cloud in the sky The heavens so blue it nearly hurts my eyes I close my lids Am just dropping-off when I have this waking-dream I’m in the city Tall buildings surround Eggs are frying on the sidewalk Sun beating down beating down I can’t stand it! This is a nightmare! I wake up This is no dream It is HOT!