It’s
a jungle out there.
The
city is stewing. The streets are
roasting. The roof is on fire.
Baby,
it’s hot outside, during these final days of the Strong Sun Moon.
Citybillies,
take cover wherever you can.
This
is not my weather of choice, this is not my season. After all, I am an Elk of the Thunderbird
Clan, born under the Long Snow Moon of mid-Decembertime, but I refuse to stay
inside.
Can’t
let this brutal heat wave keep me off these scorching streets and away from
those steamy woods, still lots to catch and hunt.
Nice
try, Coyote.
Windows
down and sunglasses on, I’m going out, through the swelter and into the sizzle,
head-first into the fever.
Gotta
love the burn.
This
might make me sound like a glutton for punishment but I’m going straight for
it. I’m going hunting for the highest,
hottest totem of this season.
Set
the controls for the heart of the sun.
