This year I felt in my solar-plexus

When summer officially ended

I sensed as an old friend come to visit

Again was leaving me alone..

Landlocked I didn't get my dose of ocean mist

Not my lungs fill of the sea air this year.

The late September rains came;

Then after the droplets left,

Clouds stayed.

Suddenly I remembered,

Indian Summer is coming!

With its lime green, rust and orange leaves;

Flurrying down from unyielding,

Strong after-the-first-frost trees.

My nose also tells me it is here;

With its silent, pollen-induced runnings.

Teased by warmer temperatures,

Gladly indulging the last chance madness;

Another outdoor tennis or two,

making hay as much as we want to!

For all too soon we will out the coats and jackets.

Indian Summer is a time that is most special to me.

It shows, however, symptoms typical of life;

Renewed yet teasing falseness of hope,

Yet we will accept this harvest of warmth,

Milking it for as long as nature provides.