Mid-September Morning

A chill along the fingertips
Between the casings seek a cool air
Permeating cracks and forgotten windows
Thrown open in the blaze of summer
The Indian time has snapped
Frost threatens
Arising, a craving for crimson and ochre
Colors of warmth

Author: redgladiola

Creative writer happily predisposed to flights of fancy. You can find my poetry and short prose at https://redgladiola.wordpress.com

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