Still holding on to the summer

That’s leaving so quickly.

Still wearing my flip-flops,

dreaming of the beach.

Dreaming of star-gazing on warm summer nights.

I apparently love to kid myself.

And not to let go,

And not to accept that which I don’t want.

Cooler mornings and shorter days.

Not my thing.

The voices are demanding

That I accept what is.

September, creeping toward the end.

leaves changing colors,

falling to the ground.

Dreams of summer falling with them

Give me sensuous summer nights

and glorious hot summer days.

Let go, let go, the voice commands.

A few more days….just a few… I beg.

Maybe.

Is the answer.

Just, maybe.