July 19, 2017


I know summer

is here by beads of sweat

rolling slowly

down my back,

feeling more sure

of where they're going

than I ever am.

A cold wind

tells me fall

is waiting

just over the hill,

and will be here

sometime before darkness,

followed close on

by winter's steps,

both cruel and kind.

And so I know

nearly forgotten spring

cannot be

too far behind, 

though she has

yet to stir,

either in my sight

or in my mind.