In the spring we had wildflowers,
An abundance of wildflowers
Dozens of different varieties
Brought to bloom by winter and spring showers;
Now it is hot, and dry,
The summer sunshine bakes the ground,
The plants and grass —
And every living creature burrow deep
Below the earth.
You try to run errands in the early morning hours
Before the sun gets too hot
Even though all of the merchants and storekeepers
Have air conditioning blasting what feels like
An artic chill
As you dash from hot car
To cold supermarket
Impatient for autumn
For a change of seasons.
Not for me the summer sunshine
Not for the fainthearted, the summer heat.
–Sandra Lee Smith