It was summer and then in a turn it wasn’t
Birds in the hedgerow vanished
Summer kept beating on the door
Orphan wanting to be let in
It was summer and then it wasn’t
The hunter cleans his gun
A sorrow from the gut
A tear from under your boots
The wildfire of consciousness
The boys were playing catch
I was reading and then I wasn’t
“Love is the flower of life
And blossoms unexpectedly
And without law”
Lawrence coughing it out
Summer/love
Enjoyed for the brief hour
Of its duration
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