over the heat, under the trees
it’s past midsummer
and autumn awaits my love.
picture perfect leaves emerge
on rolling hills-
reds and golds and in betweens-
and the roar of the cicada,
piercing through the humid air,
comes softly to a still.
wouldn’t i kill
to have you now, september,
but i will let august
do what she will.
© lj brooks
and autumn awaits my love.
picture perfect leaves emerge
on rolling hills-
reds and golds and in betweens-
and the roar of the cicada,
piercing through the humid air,
comes softly to a still.
wouldn’t i kill
to have you now, september,
but i will let august
do what she will.
© lj brooks