Will Vigar

a writer of sorts

“Summer”

2a319ed2d

Crisp air

Less definite now

those brittle breaths

have passed for

another year

 

summer air

its humid mass

presses down

on limbs

unwanted

 

no movement

until autumn

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This entry was posted on February 27, 2016 by in Poem, Poetry, Will Vigar and tagged , , , , .

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https://wp.me/s7hxIP-summer

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