The dying leaves are finally condemned
to their death upon the floor,
for the once healthy tree is now nothing more than the victim
of a southerly blow.
From under my sheets i serve these days
for outside i chose not to know.
In my sleepy escape i dream to stop winter,
to make it ‘all’ go away.
But I awake from my slumber and still it gets darker, every single day.
So how i dream of summer, to come and liberate me.
For so long i’ll have waited to lovingly embrace it, to finally set me free.

© Copyright G.Fitter 2009