We’re all asking, “where did summer go?”

Everyone from the high heavens of the East Village hell, to the sweet storefronts of Williamsburg are imploring the same thing. She slipped so silently through our grasp— no width, no murmur.

If I could annotate more, I would.

But, I myself, did not see her go.

No kiss on the cheek, no note to be found.

We’re all left hustling around in the season’s final heat, confused by the warmth with none of the spirit.

Summer has a special ring to her- a collective meaning, a joyous reprieve.

But we all must smack back into reality sometime,

I just haven’t hit the floor yet.