The summer is savage and it knows no mercy
My inspiration is gone, evaporated,
Like the dried up ponds wet with silt
And memories of more verdant days
When we took water for granted.

I’m stuck in the city, and the pavements
They breath out heat, the tarmac
Laughing with fiery demons, and the cars
They beat with nauseating flare
Too many people, too many bodies,
I long for the dappled shade, to be alone,
Alone again, for even the silver birches trees
They understood me, they knew me,
Shaped me as I grew and knew what kind of
Creature I really was, but now, I don’t know
Who I am, the summer has taken away my shade
And there is no place to hide or to find
The fragments of my melting self.

I’ll close the blinds, and make
An aroma of decay, trap the heat and make
It darker, and settle in then to wait
When the rays of the sun will dissipate
Bring me rain, bring me any sort of pain
I think the muse sticks to the shadows
Of the whispering tall willows, lurks
In countryside places, fields and lakes,
The familiar faces of the rolling hills
I’m sick for it, I want it more than lust
For it will bring peace, and stick back together
The broken pieces of my dissipating self.

 

Rose Staveley-Wadham

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