lace

the camellias
have lost their head
announcing summer
not quit here

a rarer lace, a fairer
day
blossom holds the dew
not shade of
summer
but ending hue; and who
would guess
the clever cry
the trill, the sweetness
of its song

the toad, the hare
the zephyr air
to set recall; to quest upon
but earlier dreams
recollection, touch of
you

the lace, the trace heart
that comes
with spring, and turns
with summer a
distant blue

bkmackenzie
copyrighted 2014