it’s the one that will be gone tomorrow that burns the brightest today
an invitation spoken or implied; opens possibilities
at winter’s approach the cool life of summer flares burning its brightest
alone, overlooked together, they’re noticed as individuals
a path closed to us cannot be opened without significant risk
it’s a subtle shift between cicadas singing and leaves’ colors changing
something that tiny should be at the wind’s mercy but we know better
perched in the window ever vigilant, the guard quietly protects
the change is unseen yet we gauge how time passes by watching decay
just a soft capture of a light, carefree moment can rebuild the day
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