it's over
the words were spoken not in secret but between sips of coffee by a few old men standing on the seawall and as the words were murmured the call and the reply between the planets the heavenly bodies that regulate the earths tilt and suddenly the visiting hordes were gone like someone had poked a hole in the magic bucket containing the visitors and their dollars leaving the locals those few who couldn't get it together enough to travel to drink their coffee and watch the tide coming or goin one thing for sure it wasn't helping the surf the water temps had dropped and the wetsuit that had been left out overnight just stares into your soul and challenges you to put it on "Come, climb into my cold embrace, like all those seasons past" and just like that summer was over
