TERRA FIRMA

Beneath the unbounded blue Sky,

Lay parched, brown swathes of land,

On which the process of calefaction is executed,

By the glowing medallion in the Sky.

On the spur of the moment, ensues a thunderstorm,

That is as scarce as hen's teeth,

So the flora awakens -

Making the most of the weather's sporadic transform.

As night falls,

This dry land is united with calm.

Cognizing the equine outside,

emerge the nocturnal critters, as if answering the night's call.

Over and over again,

This soporific twenty-four hour period repeats itself,

Sweltering throughout the day, bitterly cold at night,

Yet, the scant vegetation and fauna remain.