A Day Too Hot
A Day Too Hot
Crisp leaves of red and gold fall,
Like the popping embers of a first fall fire.
Summer has not left the building.
I long for puffy lawn chair time,
But can only stare, desiring.
Remembering so many years gone,
Winter oft roars through suddenly –
Torrential, tearing through bush and branch
Scurrying squirrels and struggling birds;
And I confined behind three pigs brick
Will pull a shawl around my shoulders and dream.
Copyright © Sunlite Wanter | Year Posted 2016
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