deepundergroundpoetry.com

Heat Wave

 
The air still, nothing moves  
still on still and limp the willow,  
sentinel trees and silent grass,  
quiet the copse, folded wings  
fear to stir the silent air.  
Proscenium clouds watch,  
still, still the silent grass  
sleeps or is it 'wake,yet still?  
Dare not to breathe or lean the gate  
 until breezes cool the sweating air    
blackbird's silent song, gaping beak  
reflecting in the water. 
Worms still no serpentine congress  
as pigeons cease to love. 
Colours dry on a leaning easel  
silent, still . . still.  .  .  .  . 
a silent twelve from a  noonday steeple  
pendulum pendant . . . . still,  
the clock burdened with its weights.  
The thirsty fountain,  still  
no splashes disturb  reflected clouds  
gold fin and frogs sleep,  
lily beetles cease their depredations  
greenflies lie with ladybirds  
as all is still . . .still on still.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published | Edited 28th Jul 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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