Thursday, April 22, 2010

SUMMER


DEATH IF I THINK -

THEN SUMMER MONTH

YOU IN BLACK – READING

ENDLESS POEMS



ANGRY SUMMER

PARCHED FOR RAIN

MUNICIPAL OFFICE

WRINKLED MEN



MAY IT WAS

CAME THE KING

DIRT AND SWEAT FILLED HANDS

MY HUT UNCLEAN



SUMMER IS HOT AND DRY

STRANGER MY WARRIOR

TAKE REST

ITS EVENING TIME



WRITE LETTERS FROM

SUMMER LANDS

IN MY TRUNK THEY DRY

THE JULY MOIST RAG


1 comment:

  1. No wonder you are in love with Summer, when it can inspire you to write so well... the municipal was witty... letters - almost nostalgic...

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