By: EarlB , 11:24 PM GMT on August 02, 2014
It is the sun's season,
and it shows it's strength
by searing and scorching
all beneath it, all that it surrounds.
But, it's grip is slipping.
Now, instead of the yellow cut of light,
there is a ruby gem that shines softly
into my eyes: it's not the weapon it was.
Soon enough it will shy altogether
of morning meetings
and then I will think too kindly
of the sere of Summer.
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