Submitted for the Summer Sonnet contest.
To those who may have kind concerns, this is still a work of literature, not yet of autobiography.
Impossible beauty, summer in swell, Fragrance aflowing and fluttering around; Though now, I admit, I don’t see it well, I know – my ears! – all the birds by their sound. Heaven surrounds me, but only for now; Howling the winds that shall crash on my head; Ripping the flowers that live on the bough, Never see summer return in its stead. Perhaps I brought fear – not meaning to do! – Sometimes I fumble, and words aren’t the best; The winters must fall, to summer renew; You’ll see it once more, the world at its crest. Your seasons return – no reason to sigh! – No, it’s not summer that passes – but I.
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