Ode to Summer

So much for the great outdoors.

The sun is too hot

and dried my lips.

Now a cold sore I got.

The birds are busy

doing what, there’s no telling.

But their chirping back and forth

sounds a lot like yelling.

The wind stirs it all up

blowing dirt around.

Making it impossible

to keep anything on the ground.

Then there are the bugs

that think I am their next meal.

I can’t keep up with them

when they are too tiny to feel.

Oh, the great outdoors.

Why do I love you so?

Right now, I’m not sure

and would really like to know.

ck's days