On Certain Summer Nights, Poem by Not Long Left

On certain late summer nights
when warring words settle for sights.
We sit out on our rotten wood decking
checking if our desire is still there.

Often when it is not
Like dandelions in the air
we give ourselves to the wind;
let the woes of the world wash over us.

Looking out scanning the forever streching sky
joining the dots of stars finding the word WHY.
Over and over again
these three words that rest before a million questions
burn above us.

On certain late summer nights
the future seems less and less bright;
as the last of the sun warmed wine
is poured from one to another,
we bid farewell to one more unsettled summer.