Its the last day of August 2016; although there’s
nothing auspiciously obvious we’re aware of an
infinitely clandestine suggestion that upwind, air
of unknown things awaits us; golly, well - it is an
intro to Spring and, come to think of it, th’ end of
an ostentatiously pretentious Winter we suffered
like fools gladly, yet nowhere to hide from those
realisations there’s nothing left of our old selves
Assuredly - we tried reacquainting hints of days
gone by with the expectations of yore traded for
warmer clothes - and even with those attributes
on show, were snowed under by tribulations we
have to rethink; maybe September’s first day is
the new season’s promise of a nod and a wink
© 31 August 2016, I. D. Carswell
No comments:
Post a Comment