Two poems by Lawrence “Mack in Texas” Hall
Autumn: Do I Turn The Thermostat Forward?
The thermostat that I set for seventy
In the August heat was entirely too warm
And now in November it’s entirely too cold
Why can’t thermostats get the temperature right?
The clocks, hot or cold, have issues of their own
In August they chimed the sunrise at six
But now they chime it at seven-thirty
We can conclude that clocks are easily confused
The seasons don’t know if they are forward or back
And I’m unsure myself – alas and alack!
I Will Not Mourn for Summer
I will not mourn for the summertime
Those six sour months of soul-withering heat
Desperate leaves and crispy grass and weeds
Dust devils exhausting their metaphor
Our November is everyone else’s September
With morning mists at last, sweet cooling rains
That ease the wounds of summer’s injuries
A cooling drink for a patient before he dies
Thanksgiving is coming; we will give thanks indeed
If the air-conditioning is silent at last
LogoSophia Magazine 