Vicissitude III: Summer
The uncouth sun barks
A blaring fiendish cry of war
Slavering like a mad dog
And it thawed into the tarmac
Gnawing the concrete to scintillate
A fervent fire in the gouts
Casting a lofty mirage
Of his esoteric trance
And I quelled the sun
With my own febrile tongue
Amidst the agog flame dance—
A farce chain of rings
For it sequester not concatenates—
I sat in bleak and cold asunder
Breathing in the summer haze,
Eating the marring flames,
To feed my arduous fire
That summer tries to halt
Fire versus fire; a firebreak for abeyance
Whilst the cicadas and crickets hum
The monotonous euphony of the noon
And the sun forks the frozen brook
Sleeping in this searing vicissitude,
I try to mirror his mighty rays
With a warm ubiquitous graze
Establishing an infinite place
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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