Is just a touch of passerby?
or you wish to speak when I cross!
things you think I understand
might be I long to listen.
I see you at threshold of summer
yellow with red twirl on top,
a sweet surrender of shiny armor,
you embrace this barren husk.
Prudent smile on lightening eves,
slight of shivers on snowy days,
yet heads up and straight spine
thought full with mischievous breeze.
In hope to flourish in soon spring
bit of laughter in summer night
with a touch of passerby..