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Backyard Barbecues
A splendiferous songbird sings,
summoning Summer's sanguine sun.
And as Summer supersedes Spring,
happy holiday hopes get spun.
Sol singes an ebony sky,
starting Summer's surreal show.
And fragrant florets, pose petals,
inked all colors of the rainbow.
Morning mist mourns the loss of Spring,
teardrops tethered to blades of grass.
And warm, welcoming winds welcome
Summer's splendid solstice, alas.
Summer's sun fuels fast-food cooks
boasting bad backyard barbecues.
It's now time for flipping burgers;
pink picnic punches, ants, and booze.
Copyright ©
Emile Pinet
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