"The End of Summer"

The summer days are fading, as they must
From endless hours to short and fleeting light.
The bird's once bright, immortal tune, now cries
A melancholy aura to the dusk.
The children fiercely climb, and dream, and race
Before their wild and unchained days depart
And yet beneath the zeal lies a half heart
For there isn't time, there's only enough space.
The sun seems low, a hazy orange sphere
Now reminiscing sweetly of the days
When endlessly before you summer lay
And as in the deep, crimson dusk you stir
Your soul joins with the birds in wistful brood
Crying for lost summer days, for childhood.


Shannon Georgia Schaubroeck



Like everyone else, I am squeezing the last drops of sunshine from these few days of an Indian summer we're enjoying this week.  I positively bask in it, like a cat stretching out on a sunny wall catching the precious warmth while it lasts.