high summer heat

Just thoughts on a already warm early summer morning.

Early morning, and the sun has just slipped
above the horizon; casting shadows as coffee
steams and first cars sound in the distance. 

They are faint at first, only mildly intrusive, but 

becoming tumultuous as school run and rush hour 

combine; draining the soul under the guise of 

advancement for all rather than corporate servitude.

The day is already hot and ordinarily

playful and ready for the hunt, my 

Siamese cat TinTin lies somnolent, 

sloe eyed, daring me to forgo another day 

of worship to mammon; then again she is 

securely housed, (for free,)

and always fed and watered on demand.

Momentarily then, thoughts skip and the

cloudless sky becomes awash with imagery;

white sands, crystal clear blue waters, ageless,

mist shrouded mountains replete with the knowledge 

of what once was; and turning my head, I see TinTin with 

a knowing look on her pretty face. Not for nothing are cats

thought to be the smartest creatures in the animal kingdom.

And how have we come so far, yet become so far away

from the ordained order of things? The sweet fields,

green footed in spring, then burnished by high 

summer heat, before descending into autumn gold

and the welcome hibernation of winter. A world kept 

whole so our children and those as yet unborn can feast
on the ebb and flow of its beauty and a promise of 

changelessness in an age of endless change.

Reviews

[Ken Simm.]

This to me is atmosphere squared with beguiling hints of what used to be and what is missed so much. An effortless flow and a lovely ambience throughout with hints of many colours and layers.