No crunching of the brown and dead leaves

Not yet at least, it’s 80 degrees!

Changing my outfits throughout the day

Is it still bright out at 530? No way.

Summer barely clings on, thank goodness for that

Don’t yet have to worry about my car tearing up a cat

But next week?  It’s fifty, for the high

Farewell, glorious Southern Summer, to you, I say goodbye.