Today the first of Autumn?
Time surely must be on a race.
Summer was my friend yesterday; now she turns her face.
I want her to come back and dance on September's golden lawn, just a few more times, before my heart gives way to dark November.
Turn around please Summer. Pause, at the gate. Murmur to me in your warm, lanquid tones. Kiss me. Embrace me. Please, just a little while, before you go.
I realized I loved you, too late.