The unmistakable nostalgia of September is upon us,
the hot breeze s
w through the air,
e s caressing magnolia petals
e p as it dances through
the hot breeze s
w through the air,
e s caressing magnolia petals
e p as it dances through
the neighbouring woods.
The only noises that penetrate the whirling air are birds singing,
leaves brushing each other, and the rustling of my book pages
whilst the smell of distant floral laundry detergent percolates
through the thick and heavy summer air,
content with imitating their natural counterparts.
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