“Summer”
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 Will in Poem, Poetry, Will Vigar and tagged poems, Poetry, summer, Will Vigar, writing.Shortlink
https://wp.me/s7hxIP-summerArchives
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