The air is hot and cold
In these early autumn days.
The cooler air feels better,
More vigorous.
The warm days are odd
Summer hanging on too tightly
When surely it knows,
It must know,
Its time has passed.
But let us forgive summer,
Its unconscious arrogance.
For we are all guilty of such indiscretions
From time to time.
In cherishing a memory
We grip it too tightly
Missing the beauty
That stands before us,
Beckoning shyly
Poetry and Verse 