The Summer of The Heat Wave

The Summer The Heat Wave

The street was quiet that hot July

rows of houses holding the sun

windows open wide with no relief

the air heavy on every breath

I pushed the pram across the road

my baby Joanne beneath the sun

the wheels rattled on the tarmac

the sky above a sheet of fire

Buses lumbered slow with tired faces

a man cycled past in silence

cars waited in the shimmer of light

everything slowed by the grip of July

It was the summer that burned into history

the summer we carried like a scar

when even the night brought no relief

and the days stretched endless in the heat

I remember the pram

I remember the street

I remember being young with my baby

and the world standing still

in the breathless glare of the heat wave.

I wish I could go back in time

but I know it is all gone for ever now

just photographs and memories

all mixed with quite a lot of hurt

that still haunts me.

scars that never leave me in peace.