As summer turns to fall, I find I’m missing you. Your face I can hardly recall, yet still, I’m missing you. And when summer at last returns, I’ll be lost in all my usual concerns, but once again missing you, when that first leaf falls.
Poetry prompt: I’ve sort of been in a slump lately when it comes to writing and decided to ask my hubby to start giving me daily prompts. This is day 2… Road radio blues.