The Hotness

A man pushes an ice-cream cart on wheels

As the stinging hands of hotness he feels

Under his great umbrella he seeks shade

But heat on his skin cuts like a razor blade

The hot ice-cream man in the windless smear

Of dust like a storm fighting the fresh air

Not a breath disturbs all the trees around

And the stiff animals are all heat-bound

The buttercups are motionless like stones

With the heat as damaging as cyclones

Some insects seek shelter under a bridge

To feel the cool gloom; as cool as a fridge

In the shade some wait for the heat to pass

Along the brownish patches of burnt grass

And the burning sky-line blinds every sight

The hills and mountains are soaked in bright light

The hot valley far off is fogged with haze

Every living thing cannot stand the rays

In the complete furnace of this moment

For the cool hands of the rain all lament