Sizzle

July is scorching.
The grass is crusty and brown.
The heat rises
Off the streets in the downtown
Where herds of people
Walk,
And live,
And bake,
And are desperate for autumn,
But in denial of winter.
Then chairs will denote
Parking spaces saved
And plows will
Block the driveways with snow.
For now though,
Summer holds court.
The cicadas are buzzing loudly,
And the highways make
The slow-moving cars
Sizzle.

© 2006 Dana Sieben