Rosemary Nissen-Wade #26.3: Don't Talk To Me About Summer

Don't Talk To Me About Summer

Bloody freezing right now

and Sanaa over at Prompt Nights

is asking for a poem of summer –

hot, sensuous summer

of fiery bosom and bared lips

(or was that the other way around?).

Hard now, already, to imagine

raging heat, naked flesh. Who wants

recollections that only make you shiver

all the more in wretched comparison?

We hate you, Northern Hemisphere poets.

You think your half is the whole world, don't you?

You're so up there. But just you wait.

When you are shovelling snow

and battling blizzards, guess where we'll be?

Yes, at the beach. We'll be sprawling

on smooth sand in the sun, we'll be playing

in our rapturous oceans ..... Meanwhile I'm sneezing.

Written for Sanaa Rizvi's Prompt Nights