#382 Summer Poem by Jimmie Arrington

Across the desert the wind flies,
The scorching sun beats down.
The flowers wilt and the grass dies,
The leaves and weeds turn brown.

And yet...

Somewhere two kids are holding hands
Beneath the twinkling stars.
No one in the world understands,
No one knows of their scars.

They talk and laugh, they kiss and woo
In midnight's summer air.
They haven't got a care or clue,
Love's killed the heat's despair.