Walkabout
uncomfortably warm
brushing forty
a merciless sun
taunts us to bare flesh
even gaudy sunflowers
cringe and bow heavily
blackened faces,
a white dog frolics in
the ancient lavoir,
barking its joy in
unbridled appreciation,
makeshift sunscreens
strung here and there
for feeble shade give
the village a Bedouin feel,
as three nuns tumble from
the bakery ecstatically
cradling croissants as if
having won prizes
their habits must feel
like saunas
© Graham R Sherwood 08/25