by Belen Dougherty, Staff Writer
Nostalgia comes like the dewy late summer mornings,
Brisk and cool, whispering softly “summer is still here”
but I feel it slowly slipping away.
I take a deep breath and smell the sweet wet green grass while
my eyes sweep through the rhythmic colors the sun brushes through
my backyard, immersing me in the fall days ahead.
I hesitate. I am not ready. I’m in between.
Between burning marshmallows on the crackling fire
and back to school shopping.
The sun goes to bed a little earlier. The kids are still
restless, begging to stay up late.
In this moment, as I stand still, summer passes through me.
I see, feel, hear the season’s air crackling with change.
Once again time moves through me like the seasons move through time.
So I stay here in this fleeting moment.
