late summer
late summer
everything is hanging in the air
a filigree web threads through this sun’s reprise
dancing so slowly through the smidgen there
a leaf is browning and spinning on that self-same thread
or a feather of a cloud from the blue sky dangles there
you know how a breath can be slowly drawn
upwards in the morning air
the metronome of a collard-dove regales
a self-absorbed wood-pigeon’s air
the flowers are going over over there
the anemones and the seeding marigolds
the blue rinsed lobelia by the pelargonium
that will last until the autumn is past
and the frost lays its white fingered hand upon
this my dream here set in these last summer days
you know how it is
how it goes
on and and on until
suddenly it is not
there
the thread is snapped the leaf has fallen
the smoke rises slowly in the mist
sorely missed in the morning air
one tear rolls down the cheek of it all
enthralled by this late summer dream
life is but a stream towards the water fall
a wisp of smoke from a snuffed candle
rises like a phantom
No comments:
Post a Comment