082017b

Ode to a Southern Summer


Inside
Winter blows from the vents
Summer streams in the windows
Eastern, then western
Smokin'

Outside
Cicadas' siren song
Drowns out everything
But the freight's warnings
"Stay offa my tracks, kid!"
Air holds you close
Like those wool comforters
You never needed down here
For only a half hour before dawn
You can breathe

If this crepuscular breeze
Could last all year!