Shirtless Sausage sits
on a blistering small grill –
each brief breeze a lie.
The Summer stillness awaits
the mustard of my August!
Shirtless Sausage sits
on a blistering small grill –
each brief breeze a lie.
The Summer stillness awaits
the mustard of my August!
bathing these long, broad
greygreen leaves each morn I find
warm smiles in winter.