The slight chill of a summer morning
A sheer sign of dawn, a bitter warning
Foreshadowing something amiss on the rise
I await the days when the rain would pour in
The smell would bring me back In time, a not so distant nostalgia
You were standing in line, I saw on the other side of the loggia
Was it fear or fate that struck me? Perhaps another omen
By fall, we are sitting in a cafe, talking abo...
