The Reclamation
The dusty, dead strands
of summer grass has resurrected
into plump green clumps
knee deep in the ooze of boggy ground.
Now almost winter, something moves
in the cold, set to reclaim the places
owned by the suntanned set who
paraded in the spotlight
of summer's heat.
A creature of shade, it has spent
all summer locked away in the dark
of its chrysalis, rearranging
the content of itself until,
stirred by an icy chill, it stretches
to burst through its wrappings,
unfolding its wings, metamorphosing
into me. Watch out….my bite
can freeze souls.
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2023
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