warm breath of summer
taken over by dry rough gasp
of Fall’s curlicue nests
that appear in crooks
of stiff branch Vees
that have been abandoned
until Spring remembers
how to breathe
winter’s throat-clench
rises over lower lid of sky
benignly and bullish
in its way of causing all to flee
a poet puts plastic up on windows,
caulks gaps and grouts
where light would give her away
she cannot fly, like birds,
to never-ending season
of busyness and boisterous belying
that cold could ever stop her
in her tracks; fine cut edges
on brush cut grass, shows
she still gathers
for closed eyelid
of season’s night
when she can make an angel of herself
In a list
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Oh you just make me sigh with your images
C
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"where light would give her away"
You are such an incredibly luminous Soul, your shine could never be hidden, my Sister. You are such a precious, generous gift to us all. Your absolute craftsmanship with language is a wonder to behold...you continue to evolve, revolve, stroll, soar, become still...it is magnificent to behold, Carol. Just wanted to be sure ya knew that. 
Love you, Woman. Welcome Home.
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Woe!
Deep
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