Jagged fresh white flakes
On crimson messengers lie
Frost has come too soon
***
Be still my dear heart
You will need to race again
When sweet touch draws near
***
Beyond doors never opened
In fields not plowed
What sweet gardens lie?
***
Winter’s ghost’s crisp chill
Still lingers springing forth from
Summer’s molten sun
Catching fleeing thoughts
In its icy fingered hand
***
Red sky break of dawn
All who tend a halyard know
Salt will sting today
***
Crimson mirror lake
New rose-colored moon
August comes again
***
c. 2022 Carl Rubino
Carl Rubino 