a week of summer
in the heart of winter
a war betwixt the armies
of the sovereign fae
playing out with
no regard to
the fragility of
us mere mortals

the sparrows and
i watch the subtle currents
in invisible warfare
as the temperature
yo-yos forty degrees
while the northeast
is buried in snow
and ashes swirl still
in sunny california

i leave iron nails
a rusting threahold around
the windows and doorways
as rings of mushrooms
flare with ancient energies
uncertain if today we
freeze or sweat
mere pawns in the eternal
war between the houses
of winter’s hoarfrosted heart
and summer’s burning glare