journal, left: Summer, oh how I am trying to part with you.
You have left me with these kisses, tinged with a dissipating cool breath.
I do believe I am beginning to see the leaves blush with autumn,
but I will miss eating outside for hours, and never
bringing a sweater, and leaving
car windows rolled down so at least the hot air
moves a little. The shadows have grown longer and the dying light is slanting through
the windows but I suppose there are worse things than fall.
Until we meet again.