this one last long hot summer
it was a long hot summer
just like that summer years ago
before it all began
but here we are again
under a plume of talk of heat
and pressure and preciously little else of
droughts and famines and another war far and away
the political shenanigans of punch and judy bleat
as the world burns on its way through space
for it seems our space is just the length of this last long
hot
summer
to think i missed that tomato splitting on the vine
when all the time that last coffee at the roadside cafe
grew as cold as the conversation’s turning
as narrow-eyed tutt-tutted teeth clenched
the moment held
would not let go
our sweat trickled
as slowly
we got up to go
nowhere
No comments:
Post a Comment