letter to summer in Illinois

Dear Summer,
I have been very disappointed in you this year. I cannot recall you being so absolutely angry last year. I understand you are jealous of my love affair with October. It is not as though I have abandoned you completely. I look with fondness on our past, the long hot nights we shared in my girlhood. But I am not as young as I once was and you are beginning to lose your allure. Why must you torture me? I stay inside not to scorn you but to escape your sweltering embrace.

Let's call a truce summer, with the onset of August and perhaps I will write you a love poem that October will be jealous of.

sufferingly yours,