today feels like a memory;

yesterday, a dream–

white light blinds me

and nothing is as it should be.

the air is too crisp, the wind, too harsh–

the clouds so trite.

Summer was a field,

laced with golden sunlight–

but You was gilded.

temporary.

Your chipped paint is exposing

a life monochrome and miserable

that You failed to prepare us for.

oh! wretched Summer–

I longed to bathe in Your

glistening rays forevermore.

why did You have to go?

You’ll sleep

and return someday–

soon?

oh, to join your slumber–

a wish of mine, never granted.

if I fall asleep,

don’t wake me up.

I will visit in my dreams,

in all my yesterday’s–

until You enter tomorrow.

dearest daisy:

will we see Summer once more?
a small flower, the daisy.

amiable but wilting–

She is too stubborn to relinquish her smile.

happiness consumes her

and she crumbles–

succumbing to the sweet slumber of death.

She does not answer my question.

oh, sweet birds:

shall Summer return yet again?

they sing, and

something in the harmony

brings out hope in me.

perhaps You will return,

bringing joy.

Your golden is a promise–

a soft, fleeting, glimpse of peace

in a world of war.

will You sing a song of freedom

as the flag of hope flies high?

until that fateful day arrives–

before tomorrow arrives,

I must accept my fate:

grey drizzles and placid clouds,

cruel snow, muted bird calls, as

Autumn and Winter shine

in their desolate auburns and blues.

there may be beauty there, too.