August, you are one of my one true loves. I run and your warmth gives me energy.
You are a bittersweet month, clinging to the last remnants of summer, not willing to give up on your dream of warm summer days and flower breezes gliding over tanned bodies. Outstretched rays of sun reflect on the water as boaters and swimmers rejoice in your strength.
You make us forget the impossible grip of winter and its frigid ways.
September is running up behind you to take you out, August! You sprint ahead, but it's no use...September puts you in a head lock and takes the crown off your golden locks. Cold rain drips off September's forehead and a cool wind quickly escorts you to your prison. Please be good, August and maybe you can get paroled early and visit us in June. Until then, we wrap ourselves up in layers to hold in the warmth of your memories and run with the hope of next summer