**
It won’t get up to ninety today,
and this might be the last time.
There’s a cloudless sky, the air pressure’s high,
and tomorrow, the heat moves in.
It’s a long road to New Year’s from the end of May,
and it’s a fine town to spend that climb.
But in an autumnless place, spring’s abundant grace
leaves a wistful echo on its final spin.
The sun sets orange into the hills tonight,
nestling in the rolling violet crown.
And while I know it can’t pause (because of universal laws),
it seems it lingers, giving us a longer look.
Tomorrow, midday, it will be fire and might.
Tomorrow, it will burn and broil down.
So as its rays recede, the flowers shed their final seed,
and nature smiles, sending us with all we took.
**
I like it!