SEPTEMBER They picked up the lounge chairs.They closed up the bar.They took down the names of the singer, the dancer,and the gypsy, the one with the magic guitar. The sand is now empty,umbrellas are packed,the dancers have left.The sun?Not as hot as it was back in August,when Flamenco nights were hot and fluid,with music flying
#poem, “September”
Faith saved us from the savages that we were, losing faith makes us savages again
JaZzArt en València 
Septiembre me ha encantado
Me gustaMe gusta
A beautiful poem, Sir. I love how September arrives not with a bang, but with the quiet packing away of summer—empty sands, closed bars, fading music, and memories lingering in the air. There is a lovely sense of nostalgia throughout, as if the summer has ended but its music still echoes in the heart. Beautifully evocative!
Me gustaMe gusta