Summer, she’s going now.
Stayed her welcome and then some.
A pleasant surprise,
That unexpected jewel in a rough of sand,
Washed by white horse crests.
I saw the first.
Subtle, dropping leaf, coloured tan,
Slow spiraling down, ground-bound.
Tear by rusted tear descending,
Shaping heaped mounds.
Our earthen coffins,
Where we huddle,
Resting through the dark nights that He brings.