Summer's End

September blows a cooling breeze and a soft whisper breaks out across the clan of trees: with a little more conviction in its breath shrivelled leaves scatter across the cigarette-stained tarmac. Shadows quiver and sway like light dancing over ripples of water. The sun's tired fingers touch the path I'm walking up. Glowing with a warn auburn haze under my wayfarers, the willowy trees are sapping up every last ilk of light bursting from the sky. The teenagers sprawled in a sweaty heap are absorbing the rays too: clouding their sight with billows of smoke and laughter. I climb the path and their curious eyes follow me. Up, up, up the path I go. The excitement of the unknown grabs me as I turn through a stone-walled tunnel, revealing patches and patches of green among narrow paths. It's the familiar side of the wall. The one i know too well. The freshly discovered wonderland entices me and I turn back, planting myself down next to a huge tree. The soft brown bark was just peeling itself free from Summer, when I opened my book, began to read and knew it really was, the last days of Summer.