Summer Mind
by
Mollie Lyon
Summer,
the mind is
fertile and numb.
Clear and hazy,
mid-morning clouds fading
into the sky,
definition defied.
Growth under the brow,
unseen for now.
Three months, floating,
whimsical. Slumber or none.
Awake all night, sleep
mid-day
Miss the sun,
behind the clouds, it goes
away.
On the horizon far off
a war stirs on the cuff
We learn not from years
gone by
We change as the months
fly.
War without
or war within
Summer's end
brings us to the front
Light increases till its
descent
July nights are not the
same
As August's dying flame.
September leaves the
change to blame
on summer slumber,
to give it a name.
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