Summer is over: A short poem
I get up from bed slightly shivering,
And yet, isn’t it still August?
Sixteen degrees overnight and I’m pondering,
These recent days haven’t been the hottest.
A quick glance at my phone notifications,
“Pumpkin Spice Lattes are back at Starbucks!”
I suppose that based on these observations,
Summer is over, and seasons are in flux.