Summer Time Slooze Poem by Derek Marcoux

Summer Time Slooze



Where are the willow trees now

now that the summer is shrinking in acquiesce



Do they reside in a metaphor

since the storms took away their swaying sighs



Where my little hands yearned to grasp their drooping branches

only to feel the sappy leaves no more



And now do I dare tell my youthful soul

that I have grown past my childhood desires of playing and climbing



Now only to walk and gaze, drive and fail

to let these trees impact me like a wave as they did before



When they cherished the summer

that burned in my youth.

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