August Is Hot As Lust

August is hot as lust.
I was born in January
And in me you see
The soul of winter.

I have a splinter
Of ice in my heart.
My poetic art
Is January. and hot August.

No man can outrun the sun.
But birds sing
In the spring.
And winter’s splinter is my art.

	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	V.M.Sang on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Table Dancing
	K Morris Poet on Indifference

K Morris – Poet