Summer’s Embers

The halcyon days of summer
Lazy dust motes sailing by
Timid clouds can find no shade
Beneath a copper sky
The grass throws seeds
That itch against our skin
And finding clothing
Tuck themselves within
Whilst flags hang windless
In the noonday heat
And even green is harsh
Beneath our feet
The summer embers burning
In their shades of gold
Trick us to forgetting that
It will soon grow cold
But leading us a dance
The season cries
Come love me now
Tomorrow I may die