Oh hot October morning sun,
We wait for thy fever to fall;
To-morrow’s winds, if they ever come,
Will be welcomed by all.
The pigeons in the towers call
and bide time until to-morrow.
Oh hot October morning sun,
your heat makes all creatures slow,
robbing us of our energy like a thief.
All hearts hope for summer to be done,
for an end to this blazing plateau.
Cease the sweltering every day;
Take away noon’s white hot teeth;
Out from the trees, out from the shade,
Life will then slowly unfurl
from hiding in the land of gas and pearls.
Inshallah, inshallah!
For our sake, send November winds;
Let leaves green and flowers bloom,
Let us leave the confines of AC rooms—
For goodness sake, let winter begin.
A reimagining of Robert Frost’s October
Photo by Helio Vega on Unsplash
