Heat Stress

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com


Heat Stress

Now summer is a song without any words
Though midday silence in the dancing heat
Is music enough in this stasis time
When nothing moves across the face of noon
Not even an errant breeze to whisper hope
In the sun-blown desolation of July
Thus silence descants restless rests among
Notes fallen from a hymnal that was lost
Among the weeds and dust where once were dreams
But summer is a song without any words