Coming on with such certainty is the curse in the mind,
It is granted that the course of this wonder is frail
wandering and flighty, like a shadow flickering in the night.
This Initial pursuit of a sudden racing heart
is quelled and crushed without regard or care.
No word or sound,
but a feeling remains,
and then just one expression you submit
Never obtained, reciprocate forfeit.
It is okay though, i know.
The summer born child does only exactly as she desires
and while mired and tired and loosing ends which once inspired
she reaches into the darkness seeking light.
so like the season it self, so bright and warm,
soon fading to the falling leaves and storm,
then warn for winters approach...
can she truly maintain as this shell?
as a ghost?