Sitting in that special place in my terrace
Perched upon the ledge of the roof,
Eyes closed, as the soft hues of sunset
Form kaleidoscopic patterns
Against the insides of my eyelids;
As the soft wind plays with my hair,
And the unusual summer evening chill
Creates goosebumps across my skin;
As the smell of approaching rain in the air,
Signals the end of the season;
Realization dawns that I am at the near end
Of the time spent in my childhood home;
A reality reinforced by the rise of the moon
Signaling the end of this day that is nearing the last;
I begin to wonder when would be next
That I get-away into this little corner before
It never could be claimed mine again.
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