Summer Sun

Mouring doves

In a cool morning breath
The sun rises in copper light
Ablaze with anticipation
Flashes his glory on rooftops,
Spills it on the mountain
Changing the colors of trees and shrubs
That conceal and shelter her soul.

Incessant cries of mourning doves
Echo and bounce down slopes
Follow streams and gutters
To blend in far away silence
Oleanders quiver like lips
On the verge of tears

The mountain feels the fiery light
Summer sun is leaving
Her red scars bleed anew.

Photo credit: Schill / Foter / CC BY-NC

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
This entry was posted in Life, Pandora's box, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

11 Responses to Summer Sun

  1. Captured beautifully. It is becoming weaker and more creamy here, Autumn stealing its fire and turning the leaves.


  2. Encore réjouissant!
    Mais superbe, comme toujours.
    Une vie dans un poème.


  3. makagutu says:

    what a lovely photo!
    How have you been my good friend?


  4. My favorite line: Oleanders quiver like lips. A grand line, that one.


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