So here we are, its the first day of the New Year,
42 degrees in the shade on the patio deck - and
th’ sun’s spraying an equivalent of th’ necessary
millions of kilojoules to wreck our world; - a few
clouds are tacitly staying away from any form of
confrontation - not that they’d stand a chance in
the circumstance - and we’re wearing it as it is;
the main arena’s routine activities disappeared
Vis-à-vis the heat - evaporated I guess - it isn’t
what we see daily, even the animal noises have
quietened below a monotony of redolent bellow
we’re used too - ditto, too, is the case of birdlife
who’d made their presence an inescapable and
obvious consequence of birdseed we feed ‘em
So it’s too hot to be normal in any sense which
didn’t need some sort of air conditioning t’ vent
the excess heat somewhere else - although its
an idiomatic idea less the gravity of who’s beat
you’d be shovelling it off into; - out here there’s
no escaping the open-minded reality …
© 1 January 2017, I. D. Carswell
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