untitled (summer)

I open to the sunlike a flowerlet the heat wash over meburn me, even,bake my tender bitsand dry me outburn though I mayand even dry and witherthis is no moth’s dance–

no dart and retreat from

flickering flame

that ends in glorious flaring death

no,

this is surrender

suffusion

saturation

this is summer:

a last season of flower

and fruit

before the fall

poem and photo (c) 2016 D. Ohlandt

please only reprint in entirety and with credit given

#40for40