Hot summer

Blogger you took our sweet time loading, Grrr!!!! I'm at the point of totally dropping this and sticking with my Typepad and now my Vox blogs.


The summer day
has open and closed
as did the tiger lily.

The last of the sun
falls to the rising moon,
Who then abandons
the falling night to
the new summer day.

As for love, we who
are the sun and moon.
In the creating and ending
of the days and seasons.
The turning into fullness,
in the summer’s night.
We, reigning in our sphere
Yet, together in this,
our life, our love.

***

Summer haze is hiding
the raising of the thunderheads.
Barely, one is look at.
Nothing much for this hour.
By the way the curves curve.
Farther east will dread it.

In this second, one bird sings.
Cracking another memory free.
So many, so few recall
in detail of an old photograph.
Stack in boxes without names
or dates to trace the days.
Everything is recycled nowadays.

I do sit here, on a rock
older than me, it will
outlast me, as always.
A second thunderhead
is gazing at this person.
Go east, go east.