A August morning
The heat! I can fry an egg on a path in Turkey On an August morning. The warmth of a fire on a cold, bleak day; The feeling as I soak up Vitamin D. The memory of the bath is soothing. With a weeping willow all is joy. I remember the colour of the everlasting sand. On my finger a snowflake crystallises, Particles of mass shine down upon me. A dry fire of ash. Now life begins - A path of ice is a faultless cover on a pond. A Polar Bear wanders in starvation. With a spring in my step I ride the globe of life.
Comments
Post a Comment