reverberations of summers gone past
wrinkle my nose
as i sink back
into this nostalgic reverie.
she arrives early,
gliding
in with grace,
and a knowing grin,
already tempting
Summer’s sin.
and this sun missed skin
longs
to be sunkissed again,
that darkened ebony glow,
a mark of Ra’s love.
so i sing
in silent harmony
with three birds sitting
in the crooked tree.
theDeprevation 