The Last Vestiges of Summer

by aLfie vera mella

Yesterday the snow this season had fallen for the first time 
The streets were suddenly wet and dirty white
The sky was cloudy, gray, and gloomy

But today I woke up to a very sunny bright morning!
The wind is cold, but the sight of the sun gives me a warm feeling
The leaves on the ground makes the surrounding golden

I saw a squirrel, sneaking up a tree
Seems to be savoring the Saturday sunlight
As if running to the rhythm of my every rhyme

To me any season is ripe for writing
As long as there are friends who are fond of reading
And who are willing to my ideas become beholden

Forthcoming is the glory of Winter
So, enjoy the last vestiges of summer

Final Note
The dynamics of the seasons is perhaps the best representation of life--linear yet cyclical, predictably unpredictable, consistently inconsistent, and makes one compelled to expect the unexpected. This is the theme of this new sonnet that I wrote just now.