Full of bloom and color, sun full overhead,

Face turned skyward, embrace nature’s gift,

Long days of bounty, endless joy of which we have read,

Heedless, careless, forgetful of the cold dark rift.


No thought of seasons, extending beyond the sun,

Prepare not, time has no bearing, no dominion here,

No one to tell us, of things that must be done,

Too late now we realize, the shadow season, so near.




One comment on “Summer

  1. Nineteenfifteen says:

    an endearing composition, I look forward to reading more.


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