I asked one of the children at school today what I should write my next poem about. They said summer, so that’s what I did. I enlisted their help a little by giving them big bits of chalk and asking them to write some ideas on the playground around mine. It was a strange feeling to think about summer in January. It warmed me up a little on a chilly day, though.
They’re not haikus. It just seemed to end up being three line verses which end as the next ones begin. This has just oozed out of me in a random order and is meant as a stream of consciousness about some experiences of summer. Hope it makes some kind of sense.
Summer Haze
Icy thrill of conditioned air
As you cross a threshold,
chills the sweat.
The sweat that holds
Your collar to your neck;
Desire to escape.
To escape the heat,
Leave birds to sing outside,
Melodies in trees.
In trees that lazily wave
Drooping branches
As around life runs amok.
Runs amok by the river bank;
Nettles and brambles overgrown.
Unstoppable messy tangle.
Messy tangle of hair
Spills out across the pillow,
Turned to the cold side.
Cold side of salad
Accompanies your light lunch;
Too much still in this heat.
This heat that melts your tyres;
Parking spot in empty lot.
Tarmac sea molten grey.
Molten grey paving slabs
On which wrought iron chairs and tables
Wobble over cracks.
Over cracks of charcoal
And dripping grease that spits,
The sausages turn brown
Turn brown like the grass
That lies prostrate,
Desperate for water.
For water that is thrown around
In playful moments,
To give that icy thrill.
Thanks for reading,
Richard
You can check out more poems by clicking the links below..,
The Ardenna Crossing 
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