Summer

                                                                         

Summer

by

Lisa A.Williams

Sleepy summer-

resting,

on the arc of autumn

whose cascade of fiery hue,

arrogantly reminds

that even in dying

there is beauty.

.

Sleeping summer,

burrowed beneath,

the pure white blanket

of cold forgiving,

waiting in the deep dark

dreaming

of old worlds

and their clock-run consistencies

of time and season,

where her lingering ghost,

is summoned

by desires

of earth and flesh.