Summer Day
It was another caramel summer day
melting all the furniture
and dripping from every memory.
It was the high noon shadowless roadway
sweltering stillness of burning tar
and glutinous in scorching injury.
There was the sky of permanent porcelain,
a cloudless azure ceiling
of blistering sun.
All retention or anticipation,
the spacetime continuum
vanished, vanquished
by unrelenting summer day.
Copyright © Thomas Wells | Year Posted 2020
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