Summer

These are such grand houses
On such fragile coasts
The ocean waves a hand
And they are gone
Like scattered mist
Or bubbles blown
Snatched away by the wind.

These grand houses
Now fall into grand tombs
And with the rubble
Buried is your happiness.

Summer has ended
A blow sends the dandelions
To a lost land
Faded and withered
The seeds moan for your loss too.
Though you never cared
For their end
They cry for yours.