As I sit and sort my summer seeds,
Fall is ending, bleeding mummers,
Blending needs with umber hunger,
Ending summers fairied-wonder,
Practiced well beyond creed lumbered,
Dangled by bold deeds pondered, past the point
Of foolish jingles, reentering aged weeds
Of sorrow, breeding dreams of old tomorrows…

As I sift and sort my summer seeds.

End has fallen, seeds are swallowed,
Sitting here upon my knees, murmurs
Sending, feeds are ending summers
Sound, replete with bees of floundered
Needs, repetitive with borrowed-wonder,
Tangled with reads hindered point past
Jungled fools, unentering newborn leads
Of hollows bleeding borrowed dreams…

As I sit and sift my summer seeds.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 11/24/12