Ah! Spring returns with a fresh morning nip,
Summer abates with its burning hot tip.
A short reprieve? Or a cyclic return?
Cool, cloudy morns replace sunrise first burn.
‘Tis an abnormal load nature now brings,
To a table so changed the death bell rings.
The moments we cherish slip fast away,
We speed through our lives, our minutes, our days.
What was before doesn’t seem to exist,
Yet still we hold on, our thinking persists
To make it what was, zone comfortable,
And keep it the same, rock tight with our will.
Yet it cannot be so, weather predicts,
Spring, summer, fall come at Gods own edicts.
Spring lasted six days this year,
Blowing on the embers from summer last,
Lifting spirits, hopes, desires,
The usual annual promises.
Then flames flared and summer hit with force,
Temperatures flew, soaring with eagles,
Rain stayed away, drying in the ground, flooding other landscapes,
Spring’s promise left forlorn, withering on vines and stalks.
African blue skies thrived on cloudless intervention,
Trees scorched, bushes burned, life languished
As heat drove thought from mind and strength from body,
Like a broom sweeping clean, leaving nothing but silence in its wake.
The sea crumbles against me,
Leaving scattered bits.
I bend for a pinch of sand
To blend all the pieces ,
Knead between frozen fingers,
Foaming at a mouth,
Too greedy to wait
For the sun to rise,
Or the wave to roll,
Pinning hopes on the roar
That crashes illusion
And shows transparency
Of the way.
As toes curl, crunch,
And tea calls
Filing away at arid drips of memories
My brain destroys parts of itself,
Smoothing gaps which I can’t see or feel
Until the faint outline of what was
Shavings fall at my feet
Where a light breeze flicks them up
Tumbling just out of reach
Until even their shadows have faded,
New shapes try to take their place,
Yet have their own space to fill,
Until the sharpened knife,
With the dull edge,
Comes around again,
Scrapes their edges,
Blurs their clarity,
Strips their pride,
As the tell-tale strips fall,
Fly and fade to dust.