When idleness becomes a necessity and sloth a way of moving,
Then the heatwave has crashed unwanted on our fragile shore.
To remind us of our humble position
Just the right miles from the sun
Not too near
Not too far
Just right
Just.
In the endless time of unfilled days
Newly aware of each respiration
We await another prickled night
Of sweat and thought
And trust we are still
Not too near
Not too far
Just right.
Just!
Harrison your pen is just right for the senses. Your poem is superb.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow! How I hope I am not to near, not to far but Goldilocks just right.