too late at night to be awake and yet bad poetry

[georgiamagnolia]

At the height of Summer
Without blankets I sleep
With dreams of snowbanks that
Trap cars and stack against doors
Covering landscape features
Disguising pitfalls and trip hazards
Softening the details with endless drifts
Of diamond sparkled purity as
False as it is brilliant
And wake to heatwave shimmered
Pavement relentless in burning and baking
And I turn my pillow wishing for the coolness
Of that dream already faded

S3 August 2K23