The Arid S[R]eason
Leaves strewn apart, like withered hands
The breeze, a furnace, hot and grand
The breeze, a furnace, hot and grand
Some seek refuge, in culinary delight
Omelettes of ostrich, in the Sub Sahara's light
Others, in Arizona's burning land
Roast turkey, a respite from the sand
But the heat remains, relentless and bright
A season of extremes, without a gentle night
But winter is nowhere to be seen,
Those icicles, those avalanches, a distant dream.
Frosty, foggy nights, a fading past,
The neural aura of lights, forever to last.
Now resides in the memories, a bittersweet refrain,
Echoes of a season, lost in the arid plain.
The mind recalls the chill, the snow's soft kiss,
A fleeting reverie, of winter's vanished bliss.