Blaring sun
pieces of skin left in the grass
-an aggressive game of soccer

It’s summer in Georgia, yeah, it’s warm.

In high school, they said Shakespeare
once called Georgia, "sulfurous and hot."
He wasn’t wrong.

The careless sky is letting in all of the heat.
We saw a TV news crew chasing a lone cloud.

The humidity is so thick, that the air is too dense for lungs,
but we bought a tool at Home Depot that cuts it into usable pieces.

Today’s ‘Webster word of the day’ is “glade,” which is funny, because
if you see an animal in a glade, it’s probably dead from the heat.

I saw a bird in flight burst into flames when it drifted from the safe shadows.

If you want me, I’ll be in the pool - or a friend’s pool. I taught Lisa
an old southern saying, “Lawdy Miss Scarlet, it’s hot out HE-ya.”

I love summer’s honest freedom.

My motto for the next two weeks is:
“Don’t give up on your dreams - keep sleeping.”
.
.
A song for this:
Don’t forget the sun by the explorers club
Don’t worry baby by Carrie Elkin

He sails in his day dreams as the foaming crest crashes stars on the shore of his mind, whilst resting his gaze upon the lanterns of the night sky that are brightly akin to the songs untold by his lips, the quivering murmurs in the cosmos are in motion with poetry, thoughts, jazz and coffee, in the place of his solace, darkness is only the prelude to the arrival of the rising sun on the roses softer than velvet and the voyager.

Cold days are over
Shades on the Orchid’s petals
A gift from the Sun