It’s Texas summer
When blazing heat
Feels like an oven door
Propped open.
Like the sun is drifting closer
To the gasping Earth
And as if the cooling rain
Will never fall again.
July is almost here,
Birds are gasping in the trees
And it seems the breezes
May never fan our brows.
I drag my ragged garden hose
Around the yard,
Bringing first aid
To flowers and shrubs.
My only hope
Is unseasonable showers
Weeping precious rain
On the parched and cracking ground.
This torment happens
Annually, and yet every year
The grasses keep on growing,
The birds keep on singing.
©2023 John I. Blair, 6/30/2023
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