Heatwave
Nature has sinned against us
burning the tender leaves
of immature plants.
There is no salvation for the flowers
their beauty curling
into extreme ugliness.
Rivers turn to dust
and inside my heart
I have my own private drought.
that shrivels each joy
to a natural death, singes it
with a wreath of sorrow.
* * *
Peggy Fletcher has been writing poetry for many years. She is widely published. Retired from teaching and journalism, she is an enthusiastic environmentalist. Her love of nature is shown through writing choices and her watercolours. . She lives in Sarnia, Ontario, and is a three year associate member of the LCP.
LCP National Poetry Month Blog 2011 