When peering over top of street and hill
One should not be able to see heat waves.
The temperature outside does almost kill.
I feel like moving from my house to caves.
The grass and leaves begin to die of thirst.
There does not seem to be a chance of rain.
The insects filled the skies by May the first.
The sea is cool, but sunburns inflict pain.
I stay indoors in order to keep cool.
I even sit with face toward the vent,
But when it’s dead, I spend my time in pools.
In still waters my summer days are spent.
I’ll smile when Autumn Solstice is near,
But only on that day when Fall is here.