Wednesday, September 05, 2012

Poem a Day V

Winter, Please God, Winter

The heat, best friend to sleep, is on my head,
and down and down my eyelids fall like lead,
and who shall say
that bright-crowned day
is not a better time than night to be abed?

Let the breezes try to cool me. They shall fail
to 'bate the Texas heat; for damned souls wail
when Texas air
increases care
by chasing out the cooler winds of hell.

Facetious souls may think me like them here.
I will not know until my thinking clears
from heatful winds
that, hateful, send
these curses, flames that boil, broil, roast, and sear.

2 comments:

  1. It seems in Texas the heat can also be a Muse.

    ReplyDelete
  2. branemrys6:44 PM

    Well, it can inspire doggerel, anyway.

    ReplyDelete

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