Musing; Februarys’ Heat

Now we don’t have to go outside for the sun to burn us
For in the house there is sufferable heat come from nowhere
The mosquitoes know of these plight so they stay away
The deep nights are hotter, our beds are moved to the corridors
The fans blow hot stuff into the atmosphere, one wonders in confusion

But I must find it, I must find some comfort
But where, somewhere calm, cosy and soft
Alas, it can only be so out there in the corridor
Where the Night is confused, the Wind has not come yet
She must have gone to see the Morning, for she is a flirt
Well, I don’t care an atom theory about the Wind or her whereabouts
I can only say the state of affairs, and at present it is very hot

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