Indian Summer Poem by Annie Mark

Summertime...
Warbling birds are all very well
But not at 3 a.m.
Cuckoo's may have been named
For the effect they have on people! !

And yet, as the crimson and scarlet red
Of the gulmohurs petal the streets
and the fragrance of lemongrass filled teas
waft over the summer afternoons
it makes up for the heat
Of yet another indian summer

Each footstep raises a storm of dust
Dryer each day under a baking sun
Each step raises lines of sweat
On the white cotton fast losing its crispness
Each blink of an eye, shuts out the startling brightness
Of the day, reflecting the Sun off the bougainvillea