Desert summer

on the road to Fernley Pyramid LakeAs the last breath of spring dies
upon prevailing winds–
when blue skies bleed to copper hills
below the blue Sierras–

each day is baked by summer sun;
each day glows hotter than the next.

We scurry into air-cooled rooms
await the desert sun to set
the sun goes down, heat dissipates
the earth cools at our feet–

each day is baked by summer sun;
each day glows hotter than the next.

We sit under the darkening sky,
listen to night’s dying sounds.
The stars sparkle, the bats swoop down
the owls “who” in the night–

each day glows hotter than the next;
it is another summer sun.

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