My life: similar to September.

September: When Summer happens upon Fall, our sundresses are too bare, and the black knee high boots are too heavy to stand on their own.

Each morning greets: "What to wear?" And I'm puzzled by the longing for days spent in my bathing suit mixed with the anticipation of crunching leaves and chunky scarves.

                                To be cold again

September so unique as the two seasons take their turns; mourning the loss of Summer's end, welcoming Fall's whispering greeting. The two distant relatives share a bed.

And so goes my life in the good riddance of one season to the next. The pain of the old, more comfortable ways, for the stretching of the new, growing ways.

How can life be much sweeter than summer?

                                                                        Until I found Fall.


1 comment:

  1. Another brilliant piece, similar to this one by you...

    Again, tangible.

    Thank you.