The Ghost of Summer Returns
Dressed in sunlight, it smiles
as it peers through my window.
As I put on a sweater
it says come live again.
The calendar says December
but the ghost’s voice
calls me outside.
A glorious spread of limbs
greets me as I drive
to the sight of limbs
bearing leaves
and just beyond
bare limbs reach for the sky
but also cast shadows.
The ghost whispers in a soft voice
of spring romance, but the one
I loved is gone.
Spring again? I ask,
a lover’s leap
but in my heart
I know snow will fall.
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