Winter Saw Me In August Windows Poem by Max Maz

Winter saw me in august windows:
hasn't it stopped so far,
never should it discontinue.
As if the autumn slugs would have lived
for an instant only.
Even a favorite supermarket of mine
grew a seta!
Why don't you report straight away on that?
Personally I think the great days to meet
your steppe-bred twin came;
one may think,
the variant prospect is being in print
as a replica.
Elaborating the topic of one's
possible internal image at this times,
it's eager to say:
kitchen design concepts are allowable;
apparently,
not the college ones.