Last Summer

Cicadas are the sound of summer heat

An orchestra, they dim with the sunset

The lilacs lose their scent, purple and sweet

As I promise you I will not forget

Your laughter as I chase you with a hose

Or the way fresh cut grass seems to stick

To your skin like scales and between your toes

Before you found out, before you got sick

With my sun gone it's hard not to shiver

Wrapped in the hammock we are just shadows

And I hear the faint whisper of winter

You say that all flowers die with the snow

Only warmth can be cut by a cold knife

The end of the season brings end of life