This won't last,
this early heat,
this balmy evening.
These are precious days,
these are precious for being rare,
these will not last.
While they're here,
while we can,
while away a slow end of day.
Screen porches air out homes,
screen windows open,
screen door slams.
Some sounds speak of seasons,
some phrases take you home,
some days last forever.
This is one, like all those before.
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment