Best Poem of Quentin Sands

Seasonal Change
The sun glistens heavenly over our heads; thus casting black shadows as we walk in
togetherness.
We prespire, skylarking in our seizure, in youthful bantering as we reach our destination.
Sudenly the wind is crisp, there is an occassional breeze about us pressing against our faces.
Feet cooled by the soft feel of wet . . .
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Rain
We walk about bristly in the heat of the day, not knowing when it will happen.
Some watch mere predictions on picture screens before setting out to complete routine tasks;
but who is to say what will happen for the unknown dwells with us.

I see a beautiful lady frisking her hair, wiping prespire from her mascaraed . . .
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