Time has flown from May to September
the Winter of my days heralded by Autumn
no Indian summer like some I remember
but odd flashes of heat returned
in the rollercoaster from May to September
floods, fires, heatwaves what a year it’s been
a metaphor for my own life’s glowing ember,
an ember stolen from the gods wrapped in a leaf
and whose life is not by fickle fate encumbered
he chained to a rock in punishment for gifting man
we tortured or triumphant from May to September.
Written in response to Melissa Lemay in Poetics over at dVerse Poets Pub.
© Andrew Wilson, 2023