Wednesday, June 29, 2011
A three hour nap engulfed me;
The sun had passed me by…
The purr of the furnace constant,
This whole winter thru July.
Many lodge a quiet complaint,
Starving, depressed, some insane…
Christians look towards the heavens,
Eyes blinking, burning from rain.
The farmer’s crops are failing;
No sun and the death of bees…
The ten percent with the money,
Get one minute to eat what they please.