A slope of rising road
gains on the pair of us -
forcing silence.
Dusty birds and drunken bees
seem dazzled and frustrated
in the grating heat.
Wings and feathers
weather the jagged day
in short bursts and slowly.
Our imaginations fail,
again, to summon cool times.
Summer aggravates.
Midges bite and die;
spent on your glistening skin.
Blisters bubble;
subcutaneous lakes of irritation
itching like the scumbled day.
James Mills
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-few-degrees-of-heat/
