Too Long a Summer
Time has tripped and taken to autumn, but born up by hot wind, away from the cold ground of winter.
Gliding and hanging on far too long to summer.
Confused and bitter at the indignity, flailing in their hopelessness, Time stays alive in every twist with wakes of spiraling steam and tide cast by every move.
Sweaty and fallow cheeked wishing for the shady places of cool long nights to bring.
Angry to feel the warmth and humid air hang to them.
Time is hanging on. Still believing that the world can be cool again. Eyes looking out as he slowly falls thru the hot wind, they see leafless trees, not from the approach of winter but of a summer that will never end.
Touching down, the ground is hard and dusty and hot.
Be still, be patient, they say, wiping sweat that falls hard to the ground.
This was inspired by this poem: "May Morning" by James Wright
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