Poetry for September 6th, 2018

i did not hear my Summer pass

the faintest rustle

in the grass

one moment

i had turned away

to search for what

i cannot say

an errant paperclip perhaps

a thought

misplaced

on crumpled scraps

so now

i follow

hard and fast

i cannot let my Summer pass

i shall know her by the Frost

for who can bear

a Summer lost

 

 

 

karen