A Poem byCoyote Poetry
The Summer days were splendor, long days, beach days, easy day.
The harmony of warm days and being sun-kissed. Blessed days.
Now the nights are cooler, the school bells are calling the grandchildren. I have quiet days to reflex on the coming days of Autumn.
I love the charm of the Fall. The September change of color, fresh Michigan corn and apple picking with the grandchildren.
I roam alone to lake St. Clair and I burn some sage for my world. I tell the moving lake, please allow my world to know peace. Please allow the cooler days, to make the hate in my world turn to softness…
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