How summer ends

we lean back

                        toward

                                    green mountains

our hips

                                    stretched open

            to the sky

trees

            smolder

                                    with months

of sunlight

 
                                    the lake cools and

its lifting mists

                        become low clouds

like wreathed

                                                smoke.

 
this is how the summer ends:

my palms against

                                    the pier

your thin legs

                        dangling

Jenny Morse is currently a PhD candidate at the University of Illinois-Chicago. In her free time she tries to travel as much as possible and will soon have visited all 50 U.S. states (at present, she’s reached 47). Her work has been published in Red China, Square One, and Notre Dame Review.

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