In the thin heat of late summer
Every picnic is bittersweet
As leaves bleed green and turn to rust
July’s refreshing breeze
Is now a portent of autumn storms
Flights of birds climb airstairs
Chanting their exit visas
Winging it
Still, the day holds heat enough
To shorewalk barefoot
Letting gentle tides kiss your toes
With the languor of a late afternoon lover
Satiated with passion
But not with affection
David Trudel © 2013
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