It washed over me

Filled me

Stung in my eyes

Warmed in my soul

How is it

That September mornings

Are the most beautiful

Of all?


Before school starts

You are in a haze

Either you hated summer

Or you loved it

Summer, for me,

Is boring

Smothering family

Smothering heat


I can't think

About school in a week

In the pristine light

Bordering on Autumn

Not quite Summer

Golden little light beam

Warming my skin

Inviting me in.

The End

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