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...