Monday, August 26, 2013

Nothing like

Late summer
Before the kids return to school
a lull that speaks
quietly thatched moments
of the fading summertree
spreading like a bridge from flowers
to the falling leaves
memories abut memories
holding the dream of lasting warmth
the delicious fragrance of
well being
formless boundaries
dates on a calendar
a journal entry
slow like the lanquid weather
uncovered flesh passes by
over the top of my coffee cup
my reward for hours in winter
windowless rooms
not knowing if the light or darkness
would greet me
sharp light or cold shadow

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