Summer’s Last

There’s a whisper on the air,

a tale of winter’s chill-

as I lie here in the darkness,

consumed by Autumn’s will.

Darkness looms around me,

bare fingers clawing down,

the grim sigh of summer’s last breath,

lifeless all around.

I can smell it now beside me,

the scent of autumn’s leave,

I can hear it now around me-

it’s what everything believes.

There’s no turning back from now,

six more long moons of cold.

Just huddle ‘round together,

telling stories of old.

The trees are alight with fire,

the last fading blossom’s die,

the sun’s reign is over now-

what I feel is not a lie.

So hold me still through winter’s night

remembering thing’s that have past,

as the last leaf falls from a dieing tree-

this is my Summer’s Last.