Tropical Arms
Arms extended into summer’s lair
Holding onto the warm tropical air,
As autumn looms over the fruited planes
So soon the snow will replace the rains.
So soon the heated arms will give way
To the might of autumn so they say.
Indian Summer is here and gone
As the arms of the Arctic come along
To paint the leaves so red and brown
Then drop them all upon the ground.
So soon the winter; then soon the snow.
br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r.
This poem was written for the "Belt and Beyond."
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