July 07, 2007


I love the smell of sunscreen.

Summer rushes in unannounced
Swift on the tail of the cold afterthoughts of spring
The wind is inviting me to walk aimlessly;
The ocean laps at the sand as though it has something to say
And reflects the island sky as though painted for a picture
Waiting for a playmate in the sun
Can’t you stay longer?
August approaches silently
Fading too soon, the afterglow lingers
Who told you to leave, when I was just starting to love you?

~Who said it was ever less than treason
To accept the end of a love or a season?

Robert Frost

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