Poem: First Frost

At first
we laugh at secret jokes
with hidden entendre meanings
thinking only we can understand;

secret glances
stolen from the moon
beneath the budding branches
in those fading days of June…

heat sweeps us
off our feet into lounging
hardly dressed barely touching
as hungry waves carry us along…

arrives unexpected
the glorious blush of colour
blinding us into seeing youth
even as it swirls away with the wind…

cold snaps sharply
leaving frosty white streaks
covering the valleys and peaks
where time has come to roost…

at last
we stop laughing
somberly sullenly realizing
we understood nothing at all.


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