Summer is weeping;
perfect teardrops
cling to willowy lashes.

But Autumn's
coldly stunning hands
have already stifled
soft dew-drop dreams,

and drenched
the trees in vermillion
with her eyes of homespun gold.

So jealous Summer retreats,
saving eyes of emerald lace
for the certain restoration of her reign.

09/06/2003

Posted on 09/08/2003
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