There it is again.
That late summer chill
to the brisk
night air.
The change of pace
from the sweltering
season
of sticky nights
laying out in open fields,
counting shooting stars.
The brief chill that
makes me roll up my window,
teeth almost chattering.
By now, you would think
I could come to expect
the breeze,
but I never do.
I’m not so used to this
after all.