This is not what summer is,
\nthis charcoal world of hungry gray.
\nCold blooded clouds,
\nmisspent evening lasting
\nthrough the night.
\nGray feathers entangled
\nin the bushes.
\nIt\u2019s only September 2,
\nI don\u2019t have October\u2019s sweaters out.
\nThe trees are stubborn green,
\nand for all my complaining
\nI love this whisper of fall.
\nThis moody love
\nturning under the blankets.<\/p>\n
Two days ago we were in the tropics
\nlanguishing under the oppressive air.
\nNow its freshness
\ntouches the cheek like an ardent hand,
\nlike a fever passing,
\nand the world is changing
\nall the edifices of light
\nto subdued shadows,
\nmaking me feel young,
\nas if I were in love,
\nwith the expectations
\nof my life,
\nsoon to happen.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
This is not what summer is, this charcoal world of hungry gray. Cold blooded clouds, misspent evening lasting through the night. Gray feathers entangled in…<\/p>\n