September Poem by Lindsay Elise

The summer’s gone.
We wasted away the days
lying by fires and
burying our toes in the sand.
Friends fly in different directions.
Some beat their wings
while others glide, feathers
catching the lift of the wind.
We familiarize our eyes again
with the brick and tiled atmosphere
accentuated by fluorescent glares,
that pick out skin flaws quite acutely.
Breezes blow by on occasion,
signaling the start of fall,
and also rustle up old leaves
and also rustle up old flames.
The afternoons grow dark
and far off in the distance,
a glimmer of a time,
when the sun nestled itself underground
shortly after eight o’clock.