Nov 142013
Snow loiters coyly in scraps,
And winter lies 

The edges of shadows at dawn,
Tinged blue,
Recall a greater darkness
Of which they are the moiety.

When summer arrives at last,
When green spring is in the grave,
When summer comes out
From under heavy covers,
Quilts over-laden with imagery,
When summer leaves, and snow
Feels bright in autumn air--

Will you remember the summer days,
Days we burned through together?

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