How ‘Bout this Weather?

The weather’s heat makes our skin burn,
Robbing us of comfort in turn.
Our tempers ignite with a word,
Or a wayward glance that’s untoward.
Sweat wets clothes into a worn mess.
We seek shelter or shade to rest.
It doesn’t abate or turn cool
No matter what we try to do.
Instead, we all say together:
Man! How ‘bout this weather,
And somehow that makes it better.

Posted in Perspective, Poem for Your Day, Poetry