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You are currently viewing Summer Became the Fall
the draft colder than before,
but reality
won’t let me close the door, and
september creeped up
in places it shouldn’t be.
all i’m left with
are heat-scorched memories,
but these damn seasons
won’t let me keep them.

take me to the place
where summer winds were banished,
back when we acted like
we know how to sail.
no golden flags could ever
take us any faster.
we wanted too much,
so we paddled all this way instead.

september creeped up
in places it shouldn’t be.
or am i not in the places
that are good for me?
but these damn seasons
force me to leave them.

-Writing on Waves

A poem about the changing seasons. Summer moved on, but I feel like I haven’t moved on. I don’t want to be reminded that time moves so fast. Why are we near the end of the year?

I was reflecting back on the summer. Thinking back makes me wish we can still have fun.

All I’m left with are heat-scorched memories, but these damn seasons won’t let me keep them.

As much as I would like to have those moments again, the seasons won’t let me.

What else can I do, except move on?

2021/09/20

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