End of Summer

Another Summer is over, and, really, I still feel like I wasted it, even though I did much more than I usually do.  It was still less than I intended to do.  I was going to see the west.  To run in white sand.  To catch an elusive moonbeam in my hands.  To make a dream flesh.

It sounds impossible when I put it like that because it is exactly that stupid.  I was not prepared to pull that kind of thing off.  Oh, but let's not flagellate ourselves for procrastination, or lack of planning.  We do that enough.  Really.  I did what I did because I wanted to do it, no?  So, what the hell.

I've had a good Summer.  I had my lover, and they were doting and beautiful.  And I spent my midsummer in the surf and in gardens and forests, and my lover was a sunbeam in my hands.

Now this year is more than half over.  It's past it's prime, if a year so awful could be said to have a prime.  Tomorrow it will be Lughnasadh for the Wiccans, and their god will work himself to death reaping the first harvest of three.  And the sun will lay down, and slowly start to die.

The sun has been dying since June, and I noticed but I didn't notice, you know?  That summer would end.  That things peak and then break.   Like the waves, like the rise and fall of the year, like a lot of things.  Entropy is such a slow thing.  Life bleeds away but I'm too distracted.

August will still be the "dog days" and too hot for horses, and too hot for me in that school, and too hot for pleasant dreams, and too hot to be away from my lover.  Oh well.  It will be the lasts gasps of that withering God.  I don't mind that.  I don't mind the true darkness and coolness as much.  What I'll miss is my freedom, even if I never did much with it.  I wonder if others feel like that.

I had a dream last night where I looked at my lover.  They were as beautiful as ever.  Angelic with pink lips and cheeks, and blue eyes and golden hair that catches the light brilliantly.  My sunbeam.  And I told them, tearfully that I'd have to leave them soon.

And they said to me, "Take a coat, summer's ending."