“The winter's comin' on <br />Summer's almost gone, ” <br />sang Mr. Morrison that <br />night as I drove to forget <br />the lingering sting of an <br />oppressively muggy span <br />of fiery days. Crisp, <br />chill gusts blew through <br />my car windows, and I <br />felt the inaugural signs <br />of autumnal glory. It <br />was a welcome renovation <br />in a season of destruction, <br />when all I knew to be <br />true was pulled out from <br />under me. The Phoenix <br />scorched and rebirthing <br />with the promise of virgin <br />expanses to explore anew. <br /> <br />Beaming from the feel in the <br />air, rejoicing for the stripping <br />away the past in the falling <br />leaves, euphoric in thoughts <br />of things to come, savoring <br />all minutia embodying <br />another September.<br /><br />stan pelfrey<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/028-another-september/
