Summer afternoon
Sweat-sticky Coppertone arms
Shield my eyes from the squint-sun
My baseball cap traps my steam-plastered hair
To my head (Lemonade hallucinations in there
Condensation beads and drips down my dreams
Dancing like water-mirage over hot black-top)
So hot you could fry an egg
On the sidewalk
But instead I bake my feet
Tender-hot tip-toe
I go
To the climbing tree
Where, if you climb high enough
(Mom's heart-attack high)
You can find green breezes
Among shade-cool leaves
Larry Lang