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
I never stopped the world
the world it never stopped me
until the day I forgot to pay
homage to nature’s way
the time I wrecked the world
was the time the world wrecked me
my influence and consequence
heated it by degrees
oh it kept spinning assuredly
you might claim there was no problem
but on the surface I
directed its death and then some
I am man,
I said I can.
What am I bid?
So, I did
Poetry days #18.
All work is my own and subject to copyright. I do not use AI. I do not want AI to use my work.
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