the malaise

the malaise

summer seems like a passing thought, as the days wind down into longer stretches of shadow now, subtle and sudden this seems, the decorations strewn about my driveway, my windshield, my mailbox, a myriad of the colors of dawn signify the cycle is moving ever forward to the end, yes, the sweet smell, a hint of decay, upon closer inspection the age spots tell the real tale of this festival on eyes, one last glorious burst as the sun slides out of reach, for a time, the now feels like a lingering but will soon be the past, as all things, time spins forward, hearts beat, children grow into grand old age, and the world spins away, sometimes I wish to be the cleverest man alive, and capture all this, harness all this, hold all this, a moment, in my mind, my belief out-paces reality, somehow I know this, but I would rather reside in the beauty of hope, of the other side, of another spring.