Fallen Summer

August 3, 2009
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Soft green meadows and a cigarette butt-
just a mere blemish on the sparkling canvas.
Gazing out on the sun-kissed hilltops and bubbling rivulets,
With shining bronze skin and wind-whipped hair to match,
It seems to me the perfect summer, cut right out of a photograph:

There's a soft bird cooing, and Bambi’s long-lashed stare,

Silent watercolor dawns and blazing purple dusks.
Yet as the wind whispers to me-that reminder of Summers-sweet-
And the waves lap the shore, a child’s laugh ringing out across the blue,
I sit back on my log, drawn in among the shadows.
Surrounded by all this- a pure piece of Heaven, I’m sure-
I hunch back and contemplate
That cigarette butt and crushed coke can of broken dreams.

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