My lids can shield the light but not the heat.
I lift them once every seven steps, and blindly
let them fall again behind my feet.
Then red, inverted shadows guide my feet
to crunch along this clearing through the heat,
for seven steps more, and a bit less blindly
but still blindly.
Trust me. Go. Move, feet.
Get outta the south if you can’t stand the heat.
For heat waves tend to be less inclined to blindly obey than feet.