Summertime music

Days pass,
the air begins to lose
its cooling whispers,
and sweat drips
ever so slowly,
solemnly,
down your back. 
As you rise from 
your chair,
which sits with boredom,
watching the dust pile up,
on the piano's
yellowing ivory keys,
you begin to wonder,
what to do,
what to do?
You cross the bare,
wooden floor,
your feet sticking 
with every step. 
The long,
sweet rays of sun
illuminate constellations
of floating dust,
sleeping dust. 
And,
as your mind searches for something,
anything,
to think of, 
to grasp,
you begin to wonder,
what to do,
oh, what to do?
Ah,
these hot,
humid days,
when you're too tired 
to think,
to move,
and you find yourself
seeming empty.
So you lie down,
and you play some music,
some simple,
summertime music.