8.31.00

Last ride home along the water, through the train yard and up the hill. Last time feelings ride along with it, and the trip goes faster. Returning home to summer's yellow and blue kisses and long daylight fingers smoothing heart's chambers. Countless hours in this way paints and repaints the colors on the walls. Now feel the wind of summer end's afternoon; a change of season is nigh. The color wilts from the leaves of this once luscious time. Going to some place where love has yet to be invented, where love has not yet been revoked. What shape will this place take, then?

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