Last night you had a tantrum.
You shook the house, blew down scads of branches in all the trees outside.
Summer you must have cried buckets of tears, four inches at least.
Summer, I was awakened by your anger with cracks and kettle drum sounds.
Could it be that Old Man Weather is getting the best of you?
Is he heating up the argument by melting those polar ice caps and sending down waves of the cold shoulder
to be met with your warmth?
Is this coming from our Old Man Weather’s spite?
Or does he have help of those two legged creatures who like to drive all over your clay formed friend, Earth?
Have you had it with carbon dioxide going too much to your friend, Tree?
Where’s the oxygen? A girl needs to breathe!
Dear Summer, my friend, I hope that you got it out of your system.
I hope I can be a better friend.
We two legged-s do not know if we can deal with many more of your tantrums!
I guess we want only the sunshine, green and multi-colored growing plants, without all the hassles.
I hope that does not make us fair weather friends?