There's no longer that sun
that doesn't ask clothes for the body
and make us rediscover the pleasure
of the atavistic nakedness.
There's no longer that sky
whose blue fills
of strength and cheerfulness
nor those starry nights
that seem to call us
inviting us to go out.
The clouds reappear
the rain awakens
the wind becomes restless
the soul saddens
and it's cold,
even within our heart.
This will be our Autumn
when the heat of passion
comes to an end?
Or will it always be Summer?

August 31, 2020