Well, the time is nigh for me to bid a heavy-hearted farewell to my summer school class. How sorely I will miss the dear, treasured experience. I stood outside the classroom for a long time and spoke with my teacher. The August breeze blew across my bare legs and I felt the tinge of coolness the signals, ever so slightly, the approach of fall. The sunset comes earlier, adorning the sky in it's glimmering tangerine gown. The clouds look like the scarlet innards of a Texas grapefruit against the paling sky, succumbing to a deeper navy shade of night. To steal the words of Tennessee Williams the moon was hardly a moon at all "only a small, sliver slipper of a moon."
Can the blaze of September compete with the embers of August? Summer gives one last blow of might and heat and force before it is vanquished by the brown hands of fall...
It is an awful feeling...
Yet it is a pleasure to know I can feel. So I will savor the silver slipper of melancholy, embrace the end and find inspiration in the ashes...
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