Song of the Sun

by Bob Church


Foxglove flinching from the fire,
Using up the night like it was free...
Then taking back its rightful place
Just sitting there... against that tree.

I noticed it since I sat, too.

Heliotrope sitting on the slope,
Looking for a petal donor...
If she’s fragile as she’d have us think
Then why’s she live in Arizona?

I’m sure I don’t know.

Ptarmigan is a silly word
That has one ‘P’ too many.
I can’t say if it’s a silly bird...
I’ve never known any.

(They tend to stay amongst themselves.)

Southwest desert, hear me please,
Since summer now attracts us;
I love your heat and rattlesnakes...
I even like your cactus.

I think it’s the green/brown thing...

But now you’re going up in flames,
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised...
Again, we’ve ventured a bit too close,
And nature’s forced to revise.

Houses just ain’t natural...


Copyright © 2006 by Bob Church

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