Something
There’s something in the air again.?
It’s not the pollen?
That brings the sniffles,?
And it’s not the sun?
Lingering longer in the sky’s soft cradle.
It’s not the fireflies,?
Singing their silent song?
As they dance through the dusk,?
Nor the fiery blaze of sunset?
As the sun kisses the evening goodbye.
Maybe it’s all of that—?
Or maybe, not at all.?
Maybe it’s just this:?
That I’m finally able?To feel it,
?To see it,?
To enjoy it all.
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