Here, in this bitter sun
The marigolds flaunt their fronds:
Geld burning geld.
The fuchsia pops its cherry buds
Withered on the breeze.
 
Heat begets this draining soil
That parches with desire
The lacy shock: lobelia’s Crespian blue.
 
These iridescent colours
Streak the eyes with vivid stress:
Life besting life
Electric with the flush of death
That flails the frazzled dill.
 
Yet not the spangled thyme
That sumps through minor leaf
Its aromatic showers.
 
Life and death in minutes pair.
The burning earth
Catches breath in glottal stops:
Green grow the bushes
In her withered hair.
 
 
Gar Jones - January 2019