Summer.

Summer.

What you will not see

so swept up in the magic of warm sleepless nights

as the world all around you bursts forth

with vibrance and splendor

a flower suddenly unfurled, beckoning with

peculiarly, pleasing aroma

With each wish you cast forth onto

catchpenny wings of a fleeting shot-star

sure enough in your faith to mouth a handful and heart-full

of unspoken dreams

In the height of your ecstasy

what you will not see

are the leaves as their

colors bleed out from unseen wounds

You will not feel the air grow cold and

stale

Until one morning when you wake,

foolishly still clad in silk night gown

You will look out a frost covered window

to a cold, bare seen

I will be gone

You will find yourself

alone

Once more you will fish out

the lumpy gray sweater from

the recesses of your closet

Finally seeing the wool pulled ever your tear stained eyes

you look for me out your window as shivers consume you.