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Come September

I know I'm rushing the seasons a bit here, dear readers, but I am so tired of summer heat waves... Come September, I may wander through The balmy vestiges Of Summer's carnage, And I may also be inclined To pause and smile wistfully, In passing, At the faint but lingering memory Of the warmth of her embrace.

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Elizabeth Mccann

Date: 8/7/2022 3:35:00 PM

I love this, Jim. Sorry about the carnage but September is the middle month; holidays are ahead! And I'm so glad your muse made you do it! Elizabeth

Jim Slaughter
Date: 8/8/2022 10:56:00 AM

Thank you, Elizabeth. Yes, my muse doesn't handle the heat and mugginess any better than I do.

Regina Mcintosh

Date: 8/6/2022 2:31:00 PM

Lovely write. I love all the seasons - least of all, Winter... she is beautiful sometimes, but oh so cold! God bless you. Love, Gina

Jim Slaughter
Date: 8/7/2022 11:13:00 AM

Thank you, Regina. Our Winter here was quite mild, I thought. Probably saving its strength for this rather brutal Summer.

Ilene Bauer

Date: 8/6/2022 1:57:00 PM

great poem, jim, but to me, summer's embrace is more like a too-tight hug from a relative wearing way too much cheap perfume. i am struggling with the heat this time around. i can't wait for "come september!"

Jim Slaughter
Date: 8/6/2022 2:08:00 PM

I love your description, Ilene. Thanks.