Homo Status

I was born of primordial ocean,
98.6 degrees.
I cannot contemplate the notion,
Of heat and cold with ease.

For when I left the water,
The shock was much to bear.
Enduring the wistful potion,
Of the fickle air.

I had to protect myself,
From the searing knife.
The way the wind would cut me,
To take away my life.

And so I put on armor.
To shield me from the pain.
I built a fire within me,
To carry me to the plain.

A skin of scaly leather,
Gave way to fur and feather.
I ate the barren heather,
Just to stay alive.

The killing cold still comes often,
But it kills no longer quick.
The fire of fever's passion,
Can and will be licked.

The burning heat’s in fashion,
The seas will surely rise.
But cool and calm prevail,
And will for all our lives.

Thermometer reading 98.6 degrees

Copyright 2002 © Ronald W. Hull



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