It’s over; the warm sun sets for the last time.
It’s September and finally you’re all mine.
The smell of August’s jellies still lingers.
Shells gather along foam fingers.
no children to collect them and soon forget
Ice cream wrappers and an occasional cigarette:
the litter from the lazy tourists.
I know its early fall when you are purest,
after I have cleansed you.
All summer long I waited for this empty view.

For them you are a summer romance.
You give them another chance
Every year because you think they’ll stay
They bribe you with child’s play,
and you always take the bait.
For me, you’re a lost love and soul mate,
And when they leave I’m still here.
My love doesn’t go with the season; its all year
Through every phase of every moon,
Through snow falls on sand, I don’t forget the dune.

I am married,
through every circumstance varied,
for better and for worse,
not like them, not just when the sun immerse.
You are only faithful nine months of twelve.
Your mistresses leave footprints. they dig, they delve
I want my love to myself, is that too much?
Even in June, July, and August, I want to feel your touch.
But I know next summer it’ll happen again
And that I have to enjoy you while I can.
It’s over; the warm sun sets for the last time.
It’s September, and finally your all mine.