It is the weight of the heat that I struggle to bear
a relentless oppressiveness that burns my skin
I am surrounded by its stillness its density
dehydration works from the outside in
my surface is sweaty gritty debris
constant exposure is to wither
and shade is no relief
at 48 degrees the sun
robs me of my water
a remorseless thief
It makes pleasurable sense to live in the country
but I am apprehensive about what it means
when the blistering sun and a searing north wind
are set to scorch the earth when they rise again
I am scared of the new summer on days like these
marked for worsening catastrophes
where shimmering heat on the horizon it seems
prefaces the burning of landscapes by fire destined
to scour every countryside rise and glen
I feel the new summer fear rise again
I am scared of the new summer as you should be
when severe climate change dictates choice and activity
It is so hot I can barely stand it
they say this is the future come early
I can’t stand the idea of the future coming early
how is that possible?
surely the future has to come when it is due and not before
in its own good time if you will
but the future has come early and I am so fucking hot I feel like I am cooking
I feel like everything I touch is either a hot plate or cooking on one
I feel like the sweat I am dripping is not sweat it is boiling water
and I want to scold the future for coming early because I don’t know what that means but here it is in the present and there is no relief from it
I want to get a big soaking brush and watercolour the sun from the sky
I want to replace it with pile upon pile of towering thick grey cumulonimbus
heavy with precipitation weighty blackening the sky and ready to dump
I just want it to rain
big fat wet drops that land with a splat and each single drop soaks everything it hits
rain so thick if you try to run away from it you just get wetter and wetter
it simply hits you harder and reaches deeper into your soul
I so want to run in that rain
all I think about is getting away from this fiery dry heat by getting all soaking wet
cooling until I shiver to my core with cold relief
to a place where I can confront the profound desolation this false future brings
the rain will put the future back in its place
take its toll on this deceitful future of scorching isolation divergent from its proper path
giving me a new wet future where I can cool off for a while
where I can relax and think about other things
I would lap up the true future
the moist green rain dominated future
it’s not like I don’t want any heat
it should just be intermittent again, when and where it is meant to be
I want us to all have a right future properly in its place
making it easy to breathe without fire in your lungs
wet enough to have us splashing wildly outside free from fear
rejoicing in the joy of life and secure in what is to come
I want everyone to dance with me in the rain
shake off this febrile oppression
and share my love in the rain
My colleagues have gone with a wave friendly
I sit enjoying my third cup of tea
restorative, after work as a volunteer bushy
the silence is golden, post a productive working bee
there is a koala up high looking down at me
a bee hive opposite, in the hollow of the tree
a cockatoo sits in shade on the creekside lee
blue sky above, sun shining brilliantly
hot on my back as summer clings enduringly
the wind is still, as still, as still can be
all I hear are sweet biscuits crunch, recharging energy
the water at my side this year flows sluggishly
not a ripple, not a splash, just mirror brown and glassy
the grass is dry and crisp, the colour yellow sandy
the eucalypts grey green, their heat resistance handy
not a breath ruffles the leaves hanging limp and lazy
the world outside is a world away, way too fast too crazy
the peace is as complete as any peace can be
as I sit in this place to savour, post working bee cup of tea
poetography.ink 