Summer's Last Stand

Summer's Last Stand
by Rob Delisa

The air feels brittle under a deceptive blue sky. Aspen leaves turn fragile at the invitation of September's lie.

The color of life has yet to surrender summer's final stand. Warmth and freedom cling stubbornly to its changing hand.

Rushing water from mountains of spring, tire in its seasonal race. Those weary streams, now lazy and pure, flow obediently towards autumn's grace.

While under the influence of its own casual fate, summer fails to quicken its casual Pace.
Time closes in on warmer days, chilling the air with destiny's face.

Autumn sheds no tear for summer's demise. Summer knows of no surprise.
If peacefulness is the daughter of truth, Change, is its brother. We embrace them both, knowing one needs the other.

Whether it is the color of fall that makes the season so profound, or the falling of leaves on the cooling ground, the beauty of it all is disguised in colors of red and gold. Its meaning is lost in days of cold.

While the appearance of fall can be revealed in just one sentence, its true meaning needs only one word: Acceptance.