A LONG HOT SUMMER

Sitting on the hill,
nestled against the moon,
talking to stars.

You love a woodpecker.
What a stupid thing.
A panther dies of thirst.

A tall fern unfurls
the frond, to catch
a crested iguana.

In deep blue water
seventeen summers
drowned, in one go.

A sapsucker goes
on, making holes,
in my psyche.

A tree will wait
for the summer to end.
Then it will tow the rain.

Satish Verma