summer wind, heavy, and dimming
whatever glimmer of yourself remained.
Masked as free, the flighty breezes
cost you your identity.
Stuck like sap to burning asphalt,
you have little faith.
The Autumn chill seems to
soft shoe in,
pittering and pattering effortlessly
like Gene Kelly in Summer Stock.
Your cheeks unknowingly ache.
Who knew the cutting winter air could
melt you so easily?
You radiate like an early summer
fueled by Winter’s refreshing embrace.
You are an eternal white flame.
The moist encasing of the summer air
You firmly float day in, day out
and see the world through a neon lens.
The rug is pulled out from underneath you,
your head slapping the frozen ground.
all at once reminded of Winter’s harsh intrinsic qualities.
Your flame is blanketed.
And your cheeks unmistakably burn.
And, suddenly, the Winter wind is