cool mist settles on my

olive shirt,

like a friend resting their hand

on my shoulder,

whispering gently in my ear

as to remind me once again

that autumn is coming

ripples in the pool fade and flatten –

no longer quite the waves they once were,

when bottled happiness was served in every glass –

disappearing light now bounces off the

startlingly silky surface and

a shiver swims in

it whips at my arms,

trying so desperately to wrap me in a hug

but slipping and leaving goosebumps instead –

these distraught winds tousle my hair,

claw at my skin and slip up my sleeves

just to marvel at my sweater’s

soft lining –

it’s fleeting, but that quiet reminder –

these cool clothes that

abruptly feel too

thin to wear alone –

it’s unsettling, and

unexpected vertigo warps my world for

an instant –

the crispness of grass clippings and slowly dying leaves

becomes rotting apples and old books

those shining rays of summer’s sun

become cold and distant between my fingers,

as though its light has been eclipsed

cicadas mute for a brief moment

and I fear the birds are flying

north a few months too soon

but then –

the scent of fading summer dust,

that smell we call autumn

tickles my nose

as if no time has passed –

as if I dissolved into October

and returned to August

in seconds, a quick slip

in the continuum of time,

unrecognizable to the extent that

I’m not quite sure if

I simply dreamt it –