Without scorching birth the dank long night to repose
To die and reinvigorate would be impossible
So she can’t choke out the sun
Seasonal affective my eager companion
Enthusiastic bed fellow.
So she’ll mock the heat
Luxuriate in indifference
Knowing full well
Her choice of ice embrace is
Without hesitations or bounds
A child of the harvest shirking
The scythe
Although she twists her back
Alone and weightless
Prepared but never satisfied
Summer presses her down onto her back
Uncontrolled heft
Disregarding consent
She reaches fingertips to her open window
Beckoning her dissolution from her sheen
Born one month
And then five decades too soon
September light sears
Pinholes of pain
Not made for life
Exposed
Until the comfort of cold
Consoles
Dark Yarn Productions 