Tuesday, September 22, 2009

Talk to the hand, Summer


So this is it. Summer left me. He does this every year and I just keep letting him leave me. And like a hopeful old girlfriend, I stick around, just to get burned every year. He is loads of fun and excitement and I think that is why I just can't let him go.


But it all becomes okay, because I remember Autumn. Autumn and his alluring ways take Summer's place. I let Autumn sweep me off my feet as we stroll through pumpkin fields and sip butternut squash soup. And he loves it when I wear my favorite brown sweater. So Summer, I'll be fine. It's me baby, not you. I'll see you next year when you come into town toting flip flops and lemonade.

Goodbye Summer. Call me next year.

5 comments:

Adele said...

Its not the end of summer that I hate so much... as it is the knowledge that after fall comes the dreaded winter. I could deal with the coming of fall if I could forget about winter... Such will never happen though!

Lea Ann said...

Summer dropped me flat yesterday. It was as bad as if summer had broken up with me via email. Here in Denver, we had 85 degrees on Sunday and snow on Monday.

Lea Ann

Vanessa and Company said...

My sentiments exactly!

oneordinaryday said...

Ditto. I'm bummed.

meg said...

Summer, I say scram. You arrive with flowers and promises and a few days in all you do is make me sweat. And not the sexy, steamy kind of sweat either. I say you leave. Take your heat, take your badly-behaved children on school break, take your lawn needing mowing, take your skirts and sleeves that display my flabby arms. I want Autumn back. I want Autumn's cool nights and temperate days. I want the soothing caress of Autumn's evening breezes. I want kids back in school, Summer, I laud your departure.