August's cool nights 

The moon sits strangely in August's cool nights

its orange slice over shadows fading at dawn

summer is leaving

she is less by the day

her sunsets screaming 

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I wanted to make more of summer's end, as if she knew her long, humid days were dwindling. Her sandcastles were crumbling. But she is just like the moon, the tide, the dawn, the night. She is here and gone -- a breeze, a rain storm, a butterfly.

Maybe I will have a little party here to finish the holiday booze and beer forgotten and dusty, and say goodbye.