Hot Day Jazz

Hot day like a trumpet blast
of melodic riffs that rise but
never quite fall;

each note dripping into
a sweat drop
going flip flop on
the pavement.

Overheated notes trying to
keep the jazz afloat
fingers that won’t stop
pushing the buttons
in the search for cool.

Calling out for the cool change
seeking the release from the water key
brass melt away
hot day.

Trumpet make the people
rain dance
pump the pavement
with their call for cool
tend to the refugees from heat
put music in their feet.

(c) June Perkins

And now it’s time for the extended metaphor poem.  I’ve been looking forward to this one nothing like extending  a metaphor and dancing with it, although it would be nice if our heat wave in Brisbane went away today.