I feel those seasons changing,
flipping into brand new pages
it's a yearly arrangement.
Dear Summer,
I miss your warmth.
You're up on the sun,
Hid upon us, or anyone
and I wish I could join you.
The way you blew through August
made this December come in harshly,
and I feel dizzy, heavy, topsy turvy, homespun.

Dear Summer,
I miss your laugh.
I liked it when you liked my jokes.
Untouchable, your voice had sounded,
Built on passion, fire, and highest hopes.
Hey beauty, how did you get so twisted?
and gifted in drifting away from me with distance?
If I whispered "please" for your sounds or silence,
would I get a response?

Summer,
You only spoke up once since and told me
"Be strong," but, with all the trees
Upending, falling, rearranging,
how can I not too?
their wild roots are digging deep,
looking for you too.
My brothers said this would happen
and they meant it, they said
this would happen if I let it.
And I did.

How can I miss the heat like this
when what you really gave me was
God knows what, but it wasn't real
Love. There was something hiding in it.
Summer, where are you?
Are you homesick?
I am, but I don't know
what home is, or who.
My hair's grown long I wish you could see,
Or feel, or be
Right here next to me.

I know I shouldn't miss her warmth,
When everyone said it would be reformed
or transformed, and malformed into cold hearted
winter storms, an absence of
painful pining love horns, hugging me tight.

I guess that's what moving does.