The summer sunset edges the rims of endless clouds in pink and orange.
as the scent of fresh cut grass is carried on the wind of a new evening,
The first stars appear in the midst of broken memories trying to be pieced together through a life of summers—
Summers of changes—of beginnings and ends—of broken hearts that were required for greater love—
Summers of giving everything up for only God knew what,
Not realizing that it is only because of the summers that life was ever possible,
Because each summer brought freedom in the process of madness and memory.
August 3, 2007