Backside of Berlin

Sonnet for the loss of summer

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The falling snow makes slush and dirty puddles
While icy winds lash feet and legs and eyes
Its temperature my feeble mind befuddles
In windswept lanes with ever darkening skies.
One day it’s T-shirts, suddenly it’s coats
And gloves and jackets needed in the morning
Such energy the Man Up There devotes
To switching seasons quickly without warning!
Eight months of winter deep will freeze your mind
Until the sun brings birds, and spring, and thaw
Cast off black thoughts and put those months behind
This city now is golden evermore.
Yet summer’s heaven cannot stop my heart
From secretly awaiting Winter’s start.

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