Acrostic 36. Heat… Heat… Heat.

Harassed by severe fires, Endless forests look too tired As if having a decease, Trembling boughs of burnt trees. Hazy days are in the past. Early mornings full of dust Aren’t the best time for a walk. That makes me feel like a crock. Having soup for lunch is funny. Eating it is just a torture. All the days aren’t only sunny: Twice as bad as real scorchers.