prime

oh it must be the fan in the other room
that creaks uncontrollably, running slow.
turn up the knob, pull the blanket to your chin
feel, feel another approaching summer
against the winter that does surround.

life springs up, following the fall
of the leaves - and everything that left,
just right, in all their glorious might
tonight, dried leaves just crackle
beneath the soles of your feet, as you walk
on diamonds, pushing them invisible, deep
beneath the dark snow of the night

and then sit silent and try to
rhyme - time!