Slow Coma

In the summer sun
We are all boisterous
Drunk with our own strength and beauty

Then comes that first day
Its coolness uncomfortable
Rabbit stays holed up

Tension fills the body
Constricted veins
Thicken skin like the tortoise

Fingers become nervous
Dancing earnestly
Anticipating the end

Ears, hair, nose
And become sails for the wind

Soon there will be ice
And we all do our part
For the return


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