Hot tar, melting in the midday heat
lends acrid fumes to summer haze
that ripples into an illusion
of our bodies floating in a half-world
not connected to the ground
but existing on a sleepy plain
where irritating, buzzing flies drone
a monotonous wordless chorus.
Rivulets of sweat pool in unlikely places
giving cause to thoughts of melting
into puddles on the parched front lawn –seared
by the molten copper disc high in the sky.
Vickie Farquhar(c) 2005
Posted by Midus at June 16, 2005 11:17 AM