
My feet move in rhythm
The sun hidden by the firs
Summer’s not here yet
poetry, prose, and photography

My feet move in rhythm
The sun hidden by the firs
Summer’s not here yet

Even though it’s rained
Summer’s breath still dominates
And sunlight has returned

Looking towards the sky
And summer’s not quite here yet
This graceful sunlight

Love this reddened sky
The darkness bringing cool air
Summer’s antidote
​The morning’s progress
Resisting the snooze alarm
Listening to birds

Nights power rising
Warm air freed from the cloud’s grace
Wakefulness waning



Upon summer’s cusp
Each day the air gets warmer
Joyful, carefree hearts

It’s so easy to spin
Tumbling over, over
Losing my focus
In this maelstrom
Of possibility
For a choice requires
Leaving opportunity
Sitting in the sun
For another to grab.
What if that one
Is better than this one?
Too much of this
Is a table full of gifts
Where nothing is opened
And all potential
Evalotates into the day’s heat
​Slowly waking
Against my will
For life’s demands
Cry out
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Walking this roadside
Deep within my mind’s silence
As the sunlight fades