Changing of the Season

It feels as if summer has just begun,
And I am already hearing whispers
Of shorter days and a cold fading sun
When the air nibbles a little crisper.
I do not wish to stay outside as long,
At least not without a fluffy sweater,
For the north wind blows a little too strong,
And next to a wood stove would feel better.
There’s something about the change in the air
That makes me feel a wee bit nostalgic
For a time when I did not have a care,
And joy was based upon youthful logic.
I do not know which days I long for more
Because both are a shutting of a door.