Summer's Withered Bloom
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“The carcass of beauty spent and done”
William Shakespeare.
The carcass of beauty spent and done
picked clean by scavengers of time,
whose sated memories of summer
ask for no quarter and offer none.
Winter winds tango with scattered leaves
in tune with a different drummer,
spinning fragments of color and light
into chromatic threads, Autumn weaves.
A scarecrow showing signs of neglect
looks outlandish with no crops in sight,
a hobo haphazardly homespun
on guard with naught but mud to protect.
When fledgling goslings learn how to fly
geese follow the monarch butterfly
and flock south, their honks splitting the sky
bidding summer's withered bloom goodbye.
(Rhyme)
02/16/2020
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
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