Nomad Writer

Lethargy or is it indolence?

Mellowing sinews

Putty beneath my skin

Making it hard to shift

This way or that

Even the act of breathing

Seems a laborious chore

Sucking in stuffy air

With wet lungs

Or perhaps it’s the sun

Pressing itself too close

Its hot breath dizzying my senses

In languorous listlessness

So it becomes difficult

To search the arid stretch of my mind

For some refreshing oasis

Nourishing both spirit and thoughts

So I can write properly

At ease

In Summer’s relentless heat