They say heat is good for

Tomatoes

And wiggling toes in warm

Sand

But ants are trying to tell us

Something

Diligently building mounds of

Dirt between cracks in

Sidewalks

It is going to be a scorcher

I think

I do not want to be a prisoner of

The Sun I hum

Left to find a place to hide from

The hurting burn

City shade is sparse

Do you hear the asphalt whispering

Beware of the sweltering black

Streets?

By maggie d., African American poet, Washington.