Summer’s Heat

The Queen of Summer
snarled and slung her
heat asunder
and we all were burned.

She,
the cleansing beast,
scorched away
each green leaf
and dried the dew,
so that Autumn
could speak her worth.

That delicate poetry,

red, orange, and yellow,
those words that leave her mouth,
will turn as brown
as Summer’s scorched earth.

All this must come
before the wicked
Queen of Winter
chooses the good silver
for her annual feast.

She,
the truest killing thing,
hunts like a shark
with a mouthful
of icy stalactite teeth.

Gentle Spring,
young and sweet,
waits nearby
to watch the green sprouts
grow beneath
her feet.

She is rebirth
and her turn
represents the wheel’s
wobbly spin,
complete.

She’d never understood
her Sisters’ angst,
but Summer’s heat
had always impressed her.

But,
wait she must,
because her Three Sisters
had only just begun
to yell, rage,
and stamp their feet,
until the turn of the next year.


©️ 2019.

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