vincent armone

(1/24/70 / Brooklyn)

The summer it snowed


Blue skies
yards of green
flowers of mulitude
among such wonderess gifts
I walk towards my ever nearing
winter

My lungs full of dirty snow
I hear not the singing of birds
but the calling of my black forcast

Summer
kids play
boats sail
I succum
no longer able to shovel
the snow away

Yet in peace in tread
for months are now weeks
and soon weeks will be days

For me spring brought fall
and the summer brought
snow
and the winter will bring
my forever peace

Submitted: Thursday, May 03, 2007
Edited: Monday, February 21, 2011
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