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| a bee fly hovers over a thistle |
My first son, second child is off to college. This is his junior year. His mother and I follow him out of the house this next to last week in August. At this time of year, the morning is unusually cool for Kansas, good for a seven hour trip across Kansas to Fort Collins, Colorado.
A father always gives a child a little extra cash, a new crisp hundred dollar bill. The son says, "There really is no need hundred dollar bills, other than to fuel the drug trade."
This summer is over all too quickly.
Summer came and went
Like every year before
'Til there is no more.
