Trapped in our houses, we can’t get out.
The air so hot, it’ll turn you about.

Sun beating down, relentless with heat.
No point in cooking, can’t even eat.

Sitting in stillness shimmering with sweat.
The weather forecast; no relief as yet.

Dog so hot she lies in a puddle.
The wife so hot, too hot to cuddle.

Any movement you make, you’re dripping with sweat.
Any thought that you think, a brain ache you’ll get.

The windows are covered with condensation.
Voices are stilled, no conversation.

Weather man says, “It’s going to rain.”
Relief you believe, and then the pain,

upon hearing the heat will not abate,
until some unknown future date.

Oh, woe! Oh, crisis! What terrible trouble.
I guess I’ll join the dog in the puddle.

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