Summer's Last Breath/Dark September

I walked into the room of summer, with its creaking hinges and peeling paint...Looking into her face, long gone are the bright eyes and the shining temperment. Instead I found the pale and wanton shade of September with its disappearing leaves and escalating chill.

Labored is the breathing of hot and stagnent air. Fans and open windows mere suggestions of what could be A solemn cloud of sadness hangs our us at the thought of an emminent end
I remember the happy days of tank tops and open hydrants When I felt free, open and blessed just to be in her presence. She was powerful and engaging But here she lays now -- a shadow of her former self -- slowly wasting away and I look intently at her Wanting it all to make for the sense

Is there a whisper of a phrase or a final word: "I love you...I miss you...I want you back..."
And then... nothing

She ceases to breathe Her heart ceases to beat...She flatlines and the room becomes quiet Her lips turn cold from the times I remember Its called summer's last breath. What I see now and what there is to look forward to Dark September

All Rights Reserved
-- © LHB 2007