Summer Days
Masses of sunburnt grass,
Sway with delicate ease.
Seduced by the composer
Of the soothing May breeze.
Swallows parade,
Pirouetting,
Swooning,
With humpy gluttonous crows
Giving weary approval
From tops of telephone poles.
The summer silence,
Bestows dignity upon this land.
As downtrodden seeds,
And wild limitless weeds
Claim their ancient ways,
My mind is light,
To hot,to drunk,
To care about the darkness of man,
And all his little subplots.
I turn on some baroque,
Wishing to dream
transcendental dreams.
Copyright © Paul Martin | Year Posted 2016
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