Summer by the River

The river has a bloated look,
As it meanders with a languid melancholy,
Past sleepy meadows that watch it with a lazy eye.
Dragonflies hover nervously over still waters,
Their metallic backs glittering, in the sun.
Fish jump halfheartedly to taste the air,
Which presses upon us with a heaviness
That drains away our resolve.
Sitting under the chestnut tree
We talk of conker fights and chew our bread.
We are distracted by our weariness
And make vain attempts to rouse ourselves,
But we are defeated by our lassitude,
And content ourselves by watching
Herons swoop and glide

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