Taste of Warm

I ache to swallow summer
without paring or pitting
hold it inside warm and rich
while winter
slings shards of ice
frigid wind rises in the night
moans through canyons
like the cry of a loon
vibrating mountain-tall pines
with threat
wild enough to crack my bones,
when grey eats the sun and moon
clothing knots my easy walk
I want to swallow summer whole.






Frame of Summer, Photo by Sue Turner