A Brief Affair Poem by Howard Pipe
A Brief Affair
Only yesterday,
when the sun had passed its zenith,
did it occur to me
that Summer is a brief affair.
The days of high wire swifts
slicing through soft Sunday breezes,
and butterflies dancing
with buddleia blooms,
will soon be over.
Scorched grass borders will turn to green.
So too, the holiday memories of August,
will take their leave,
and shine a distant ray of light
on Autumn's new horizon.
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5/12/2024 8:06:57 PM # 1.0.0.1119
