Seasons
This evening blue skies and
white clouds
are gradually replaced with
misty gray gauze
that softly drapes itself
over the nearby foothills
as the temperature falls.
It’s September and September
is flirting with autumn
behaving like a wanton lover
plucking leaves
and frivolously scattering
them.
Tomorrow summer will return
hot and humid
erasing the premonition of
the howling bitch of winter
who approaches mercilessly
keeping herself hidden in the
mist.
Poetry and photography by David H. Roche (C) 2014
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