balls to you september!

just as i was larking it up in all things white linen,

and sopping myself in scents of magnolia sweet;

you swept summer sands away without even a warning bell.

give me just one more cobbler peach, one more night-a-steamy.

pumpkin lattes and socks up the knee can wait a bit longer, no?

i haven’t quite finished my summer sandwich.

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