Calendars say it now is summer
So we gird for a three month war.
The object won’t be victory
We’ve battled this before.

To conquer is impossible
There’s unrelenting heat
That’s burning hot at 3 A.M.
And noon is a repeat.

There never is a cooling breath.
The breeze does not refresh.
It parches what it does not fry
And laughs at shading mesh.

Each day’s a battle to achieve
What little must be done
And hope you needn’t go outside
Beneath that scorching sun.

Mark exes on the calendar -
October is so far away
But that becomes the shining goal
We struggle for each day

We ask ourselves if we are nuts
To wage this war each year
But once the Desert owns your heart
You have to linger near.
      ljm