Transition

Mornings when
the sun shines red
among the haze
from fires north
of the border
I sit at my desk
stare at the ocean
feeling the transition
as summer slips away
into the memories
I will only half
-remember... 
I see the temperature
dropped to degrees
I haven't seen
since spring.

One thought on “Transition”

1. The way you capture that seasonal shift—how the light, the haze, even the temperature carry memory—is beautiful. It’s like the morning itself is a reminder that what fades never fully leaves, it lingers in fragments we half-remember. Really struck me.

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