Fall Breeze

Fall comes,
the hot days of seasons past
coming cool.
And I sit
on my porch
and feel the breeze,
the faint touch of wind
on a darkening night,
reminding me of
the heat of that which
passed,
the chill of what is
to come.
Prepare for the future,
they say,
and gather the fuel.
Forget the past,
they say,
and warm yourself
by the fire.
To them, I say this:
The same sun shines
o'er spring and fall.
And while its light
may dim sooner,
its heat may leave us,
I shall remain faithful
to its warm embrace.
Time may take her away
but shall yet return her again.