Tropic of Cancer Pt. II
The sun is liquid fire,
Melted into pallid cloud,
Heat in brazen ire,
From the hazy ozone shroud.
The chlorophyll is glaring,
On this verdant crop of cane,
Radiation flaring,
Bringing bounty with the rain.
The trees stand in procession,
Lined against the backdrop sky,
Sunlight their obsession,
With the cloudbanks wheeling by.
The mountains undulating,
Underneath the solar flare,
Daylight enervating,
Such a paralysing stare.
Humidity like honey,
Like a sticky, awful curse,
Months unnerving sunny,
And a war to make it worse.
Mark the tropic thunder!
She is matchless in her wrath!
Houses going under,
As she spills the raincloud bath.
Men are lonely spectres,
And the crab will dominate,
Lightning hurled in vectors,
With such rage to demonstrate!
Lost in tropic visions,
And the swing of cancer’s claw,
Nature’s mad provisions,
Bring a spirit stricken raw.
adamdaniel 