Stinging
desert sun assaults us
in undulating flares
torturous incandescence,
stagnant air
epitome of aridity,
no relief from summer heat
only sweet thoughts, cool blue
reason for inner sanctum
ocean dives,
snowfall serenades,
blizzards & blankets,
but fire covers us now
& breeze in absentia
reminds us how a mind
on overdrive, sweltering,
defeated, sweat dried as ash
can convince us to believe
that a cold day will come
eventually, & all seasons
must pass, like an inferno blast,
like our fleeting feelings
& our daydream dealings,
like our disdain for withheld rain,
or the cruel sting of skin-deep pain
Stinging
Thistle Thoughts 