A Dirge of Summer

Can you feel it? Summer tires and will soon sleep. This is a simple piece, nothing special.

Eulogy

This is summer’s last.
The ash trees,
the stout oaks

contend with the cooling
earth that envelopes
their roots.

Only the pine
will remain green,
but it has already

forgotten
the boy pushing
toy cars

through the dirt
within its shade.

———————————–

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Three Coins in the Fountain.” I bet children across our nation are wishing summer’s end was still far, far away.

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