summers end

we walk
the boulevard,
stroll
in the oppressive heat.
the fountain
rises and falls.
we speak
of things to come,
what might
happen or not.
the world feels
small.
the sky too close.
the weight of
it all
keeps us quiet
and hopeful.
the voices of children
are high pitched
as they
run barefoot
through the clear
cool water of summers
end.