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By John I. Blair

On soft Spring mornings
vapors float by,

    blessing my days
    with their gauzy apparition.

After come harsh Summer skies,
blue beyond mercy;

    baring me to the noon rays
    in murderous precision.

In stormy Autumn, like today,
walls of pitchy cumulus

    can obliterate the sunset,
    Armageddon for twilight.

But then my life may once again
be caressed, illuminated,

    by the mystic moon
    on a frigid Winter night.

2004 John I. Blair  

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