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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
HEAT WAVE, by KATHLEEN SUTTON
First Line: Dawn lifts a brazen head above the hill
Last Line: Summer is old; it will not sing again.
Subject(s): Heat
First Line: Dawn lifts a brazen head above the hill
Last Line: Summer is old; it will not sing again.
Subject(s): Heat
Dawn lifts a brazen head above the hill,
Its scorching tongue licking the listless trees
And darting like thin flame into the still
Slumbering valley. Now the sheer night breeze
Falters and vanishes; a bluejay screams
Protest above the brook's deserted bed
Where spiders crawl; and from uneasy dreams
Men rouse, unwilling and dispirited.
Before their eyes the grass runs like a brown
Unlovely rug, pavements move crazily
In a white shimmer of heat, while up and down
The wilted garden roves the fretful bee.
Even though skies should yield the cooling rain,
Summer is old; it will not sing again.
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