Last Summer
A Shakespearean Sonnet of Summer Endings
By N. S. PaldinoPublished 3 years ago • 1 min read
Photo by Alejandro Gonzalez Valle on Unsplash
Cicadas are the sound of summer heat
An orchestra, they dim with the sunset
The lilacs lose their scent, purple and sweet
As I promise you I will not forget
Your laughter as I chase you with a hose
Or the way fresh cut grass seems to stick
To your skin like scales and between your toes
Before you found out, before you got sick
With my sun gone it's hard not to shiver
Wrapped in the hammock we are just shadows
And I hear the faint whisper of winter
You say that all flowers die with the snow
Only warmth can be cut by a cold knife
The end of the season brings end of life
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