A morning watered by cold summer rains
Unlocks a particular palette of aromas
Every fat blade of grass perfumed; a chain
Of roadside puddles unspooling their chromas
Catching sweet, crisp summer, sat beside each lane
As I walk I breathe in golden days again
When mornings quivered with a restless buzz
Get up! Stop wasting the sumptuous sun!
Swim, run, climb; on a beach somewhere frolic and fun
Charged yellow, orange, panting a sweltering fuzz
All seasons are dead when summer is done
Such power flickers in those soft chanting leaves
The last light leaving in the evening is grey
Pointed with a tinge of blue, graceful wreathes
Caressed by the closedown wind. It speaks
And I listen intoxicated the sublime sigh of the day
Laid, as if to build, with columns of leaves and water
Ringed in archipelagoes, fashion that new world
Raw and beautiful, like newborn sons and daughters
Of our late earth, passionate love wrung tauter
And bloody, baited hunger lost in a swirl.
@nepion_boreas17
