Winter and Fall
Time. How you tick away.
Seasons moving faster
How I despise the heat today,
Hotter than a southern pastor.
Eyes closed and I drift to another place,
Manifest the cool wind in the air.
Snow, bright and falling upon my face,
Humidity no longer affecting my hair.
Cringing at the thought of another year,
Here it is now and gone so quick.
Which is more terrible and severe?
The heat or the clock’s sound: Tick.
© Susan Reed 2015
This poem was written in response to today’s Daily Prompt: Turn, Turn, Turn
Have a fantastic day, everyone!
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