Late August

My melancholy mood loves

The late August, when

A few leaves are turning yellow

The still air is

Crisp, but sometimes sultry

The sun shines

Lower in the sky

The waning of the summer

But not Autumn, yet

It is the waning that affects me

Like early baroque music

Which is really the waning of the renaissance

I swear I love late August

Even more than summer

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