September Memoirs
an autumn day near summer’s end;
the morning crisp and cool.
my friends and I, without a care,
meander off to school.
then as we near the old playground —
the scent of fresh-baked bread!
the sounds of children laughing!
the sunshine overhead!
though many years have come and gone
borne on a changing wind;
how fondly I remember
autumn days near summer’s end.
– Jerry Dan Deutschendorf