'Out of the cradle, endlessly rocking...'

Monday, July 22, 2013

an untitled poem...


About the house late summer seems
a riot now of madness, all order
gone in a tangle of vines and nettles 
forcing all to cede their place, 
heat creeping slow, a garden gone
to seed, until the days grow shorter
and the slanting sun restores 
at last every calm and dappled form.

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