Today I said good-bye to my last English summer.
Shivering inside my too-lightweight jacket
barely sidestepping two yellow leaves
blowing down the sidewalk--
the wind whipped by my cheek
kissing it with much colder--but not yet ice-cold, lips
ending, in that instant, my last English summer.
Next May when a soft warm breeze
gently caresses the bluebells in English woods
I won’t be walking down this street.
