september like
golden afternoons
like autumns on
the tip of your tongue
all honey dripping
and marshmallow tang


summer’s end

there is a thick scent of
nostalgia as the dog days of summer
come to an end.

she gazes
at the world through
honey-tinted glasses and aches

for something more,
to return to the simpleness
of childhood.

perhaps then
she could find
the source of that deep,

deep ache that
only comes around when
autumn winds blow.


many springs have come and gone, but for her, youth is a permanent state of being. flowers never fade beneath her feet. the sun is in her smile. she reminds you of a girl you once knew as a child. come play, she beckons. you follow, feeling the chill of winter fade in her grasp. in her field of eternal spring, you are reborn.