This poem has no basis
whatsoever in reality. Any
coincidence is purely accidental.
The heat's migrated away from the air-
unseen birds of thirstiness and fire
fluttering without a sound or trace
leaving the world to a
serene grace.
The
sultry siren that used to sing
her
enchantment behind gauzy screen
hazy as a dream half-waken,dripping
with fantasies you can't make reality
has retreated with the tide of season
giving place to a fair country lady
smiling like a laden crop in breeze
when the sky is growing ripe in peace.
The end of summer has come too soon
before I could say goodbye to the moon
that was listening to the crickets
and might catch our whisper careless.
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