Miserable Midsummer
Miserable Midsummer
‘Tis midsummer, and we have no choice;
The thermometers have reached a peak,
Three digits creeping and sticking,
Air conditioners running full speed.
We look at heat waves out the window
We wait for dusk and something cold
Hope mama remembered popsicles,
And little bathers splash so bold.
We wait for the big weatherman
To say there’s a break, I smell fall,
Midsummer comes, but it will go,
And gold and red will cover all.
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