Poem in Hot Summer

No fog in the morning
Air dry
plants wither

I water the grapevine
and touch hovea blooms

A new petunia has vivid red edges and a deep purple centre
I think I would like to have a sleep in that centre
The edges dance in the wind and I would like to dance again

I am withered by the sear of age
My hair is brittle
Why are white hairs brittle and the red so flexible?

A spider web caught my shoe
so tough I could feel its resistance.

Spider webs are stronger than butterfly wings
yet they say,
who say such things
that a butterfly’s wing can change all air

I don’t believe it
all of my butterflies come from green worms that eat cabbages
How can anything that eats raw cabbage change the world?

The hovea has white blossoms shaped like tiny horns
The moon plant has gone into hiding
The wind is hot and too dry
The yellow blooms reflect the sun

In the north it is snowing