She'll be coming around soon enough

Time
becomes lost
in the ridges
of her summer dress
playing tricks
in the wind
as bare feet
caress blades of grass.
She dances
in circles,
my glances
and trances
following her colors
cascading
over
me.

Her voice
transcends Time
hours behind
thrown hours ahead.
   My mind
        cleared and
              telling of a
                    most cynical rhyme.

She'll be
coming around
soon enough,
With her collection
of wrinkled
summer colors
tucked safely away.
She'll be
coming around
soon enough,
With her collection
of purples and blues
blending in
my own eyes.

She'll be
coming around
soon enough
and the
tough ridges
of my palms
will hide
Time away.