Imagery

When morning spills a startling chill

From scarlet-satin skies

And we observe a keener verve

Within her restless eyes

When tree-tops blush beneath her brush

Teasing the verdant limb

We recognize the sure demise

Of summer growing dim

But we cannot dissuade or stop

An hour’s velocity

The hand that tugs the bashful bud

Will strip the leafy tree

And those who once dashed unabashed

By life’s rollicking rhyme

Begin to see Mortality

Within each tick of Time

As morning spills a startling chill

On summer’s memory

We recognize within her eyes

More than we plainly see

© Janet Martin

It is downright COLD these past few mornings!