Fading

 

Another summer

 Fading,

Almost dark at nine,

No one’s bitching

About the heat,

Complaints have

Switched to cool

Damp mornings

And the high

 Cost of heating,

Two wise old timers

Wondering out loud

If this is their last one,

A farewell season

To tight shorts,

Labia lines, tank tops,

Cleavage and nippled hills

Teasing come camp forever.

 

Stephen Nesbitt ©

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