Content warning: This poem is about the ongoing heat in Europe. I strike an optimistic tone toward the end, but if you would prefer not to read about the heat, I offer you one of the Scottish poems I have written in stead.
Nature’s weary tears fill the air;
invisible, warming.
Relentlessly, days proceed.
Hours pass; Celsius rises.
Midnights: warm like day.
We stay inside.
Blinds closed, water glasses full, cookers off.
Flowers bloom early.
Eyelids weigh; we yearn
for rest that does not come.
Heat ravages the continent.
London is Rome.
Roads reduce to liquid, power lines sag:
infrastructure is under stress.
Headlines depress.
Hope: We come together, reaching
with open eyes.
Her resiliency:
Our future?
