Summer died and began to rot with some maggots on its prey
I was home and locked in, with a fabric on my face
I could see the glistening sky with red berries on hot days
He was afar miles away, I couldn’t reach him in the race
***
Long days flowery dresses but we dared not go out to play
They were taking their last breaths, with some oxygen as an aid
Sparse streets and no life on a glorious summer day
So I begged the numbing winter, it’ll be better to invade
***
Glasses of wine in my nude painting the beauty of the lake
I abstract my summer and pretend, I enjoy its useless stay
the bright sun was a waste and so I forced myself to bake
But even the brightness and the sweetness, could not stop a gloomy day
***
Summer died but it might come back, this year we dare to pray
But the holes the maggots left behind, we can never wash away.
About the Creator
Damilola
poet, wanderer, writer.
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