Wednesday, August 25, 2021

Last of August

 it's just the blushing maple leaves

that fall in this heated August breeze

that curl the hairs on his neck

that beckon back to the chilled moonlight

full crystal flutes he sipped from

in waiting to hear from the void of night

a distant, quiet voice called his name

luring him from civil slated order

into the wild ravages of the unknown

and he was pleased to succumb to the call

and fall just as these blushing red leaves

brush his cheek in this heated August breeze




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