Tropic Religion Poem by Barry Middleton
Tropic Religion
I am weary of the tropics
yet I will never leave her
I am weary of the endless heat
the blood-red sunset
palms are like a maidens
hair blown by the breeze
the egret stalks its prey
like a pale ghost of death
cypress rise from dark water
I was born for this place
live oaks are a colonnade
to hold the blue dome of sky
I am weary of the tropics
yet I will never leave her
I have no other church
where I may rest my soul
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5/6/2024 11:32:47 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Dew points have been in the upper 70s here for a while. If it's anything like that in the tropics, I don't know if the rest of the beauty can make up for it. : -)
I've gotten used to it. It does get a tad damp.