September, and Autumn creeps
into Summer’s room. So many
dresses — green, shade upon 
shade — too many. The young girl
wants something richer for the cream
of her skin and the sweep of her dark
hair. She fingers an oak leaf 
imagining herself dancing 
in that shape, fiery, across the hills.
She smiles. Yes. That will do.

© by Nils Peterson.
Used with the author’s permission.