Summer’s last breathe breathes the chill of fall.
I wait to answer while I wait to call.
Do we both anxiously check our phone?
Who’ll call first, who’s alone.
~
Does she weep, does she wonder?
Does she care or does she wander?
What is she thinking? I’d love to know.
A mere breathe and my breeze will blow.
~
And the waves of emotion may roll or crash,
castles of sand always gone with a splash.
Beach balls aloft have destinations to guess.
And I left to fill another, till breathless.
~*~
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rhymesalot 