Monday, September 20, 2010

Valley Pew

You must know
the hot sun
that tingles the skin
at the very end of summer

Some people say
we have no seasons
but how wrong

Here they are
whispered gifts
for the faithful seer
the believer

The hot sun brushes
tickles like a feather
down my spine
enticing me to rest

But it's only a short visit
to this secluded temple
of faith

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