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S
scribbler
Jul 02, 2018 ⭐ View statistics (Premium feature)

SOUTHERN SUMMER

The sun beats down without mercy
here in the depths of the old south
drawing salty sweat from out of me
leading to a dry and yearning mouth.

Yet one more drop of sweat pats down
on dusty ground from my big nose.
The salt in my eyes makes me frown.
There's no dry spot on my work clothes.

I pause to wipe my soaked bald head,
look at the sky, replace my hat,
hoe a few more weeds from garden's bed
and curse myself for getting fat.

A deer fly bites through my tee shirt.
My slap gets him but it's too late.
I pick up a stone from rich red dirt
and hurl it toward a rusted gate.

At last I get to the row's end
and decide, then, to call it a day.
So toward a shade tree I wend
where cooler air presides I pray.

I get there and sit in an old chair
then rub the aches in healing knees
immersed in the soft breeze there
(little more than a faint tease)

Just as the sweat begins to dry
and my aches begin to fade
summer's banes begin to fly.
They,too, it seems prefer the shade.

So back up on tired feet I go
and head off to the place I dwell.
As long as the damp hot winds blow
only conditioned air can beat this hell.

About This Poem

Style/Type: Structured: Western

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft

About the Author

Region, Country: South Carolina, United States, USA

Favorite Poets: Frost, Burns, Longfellow, Poe, and Johnson. I guess you've noticed these are all past masters. Other than folks on site I don't read any contemporary poets .

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Comments

Rula

Rula

7 years ago

Hello Stan

I too can relate.
It's over it's usual temperatures in this time of the year here where I live, and yes, only air conditioning can beat this hell.

IRiz

IRiz

7 years ago

Stan,

Stan,
This was a journey into your reality.
Complete immersion!
Nice poem.

S

scribbler

7 years ago

Yes

Down here we pay for our mild winters by such hot summers. The northern tier of states pays the reverse. Thanks for dropping by...........stan

S

scribbler

7 years ago

Oh man

I lived in Memphis as a child and still remember lying in the dark near an open window waiting on a cool breeze. New Orleans is likely even worse lol. Thanks for the visit.....stan

Eumolpus

Eumolpus

7 years ago

your poem

Technically the poem sounds fine. Wend/end seemed like the only forced rhyme.
The only stanza i really did not like was

I pause to wipe my soaked bald head,
look at the sky, replace my hat,
hoe a few more weeds from garden's bed
and curse myself for getting fat

A little too cute, self depreciating, not necessary. Why are you beating yourself up like that in a poem about heat? It doesn't add...

also "They,too, it seems prefer the shade" are you referring to your arches? a bit off, both in meter and credibility.

But in the final analysis I think sometimes a poem needs a little more narrative, something that makes it bigger than itself. The poem leaves us with a cliche, like the roving reporter who interviews people about the heat, all saying the same cliches. There are bigger theme's within the subject of the Southern Summer, how the whole world distorts and melts. I feel the poem needs something to jolt it (and the reader) into a larger playing field. you have found this in many of your other poems. but not this one for me.

T

tyro

7 years ago

"A little too cute, self

"A little too cute, self depreciating, not necessary. Why are you beating yourself up like that in a poem about heat? It doesn't add..." its been my experience that fat people does suffer much more in the heat. I had an immediate affinity to that line.

" are you referring to your arches? I thought he was referring to insects.