August had five clouds. I counted them one day. The sun certainly attracted crowds that August you went away. May had four dreams. What was significant about each one was the same. It was you in each one. And I was always to blame. June had three plans. I leaned in closer to hear what you said. A lively yellow band played on the pier when you fled. July made happy circles. You began to grow distant, just as I had feared. Gossip was just beyond my reach the summer you disappeared.