Looking Back

 
 such a summer
 ripe with wetting
 fattened fruits
 primed for netting
 I saw the moon
 had grown mouldy
 dully grey
 and rumpled oldly
 
cockies shrieking
 raucous, shocking
 days aprick with  
 grass seeds, socking
 humid shroud of  
 air that holds me
 ropes of rain
 plunging boldly

 pinned and damp
 as limping moth
 ‘neath the sky,
 its baritone wrath
 but I’m not
 at all complaining
 about the clouds,
 the cool, the raining

 I would happily
 every year
 enjoy the lack
 of fire fear 

7 thoughts on “Looking Back

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