【by Sadie Zeiner-Morrish】

The end of summer crept up on me, unraveling and suddenly dead in my hands. The bears were growing thicker coats.
The old dog had started to stop at the bottom of the hill, instead following the peak with her eyes as if searching for her younger self.
The owl chicks had begun dropping from trees.
I wasn’t ready. I was still too young to see the end of something else, another death. I hoped when I died my life would have felt long and full. I hoped I would not die alone like my grandmothers,
I hoped that my dogs would look down out of the great pink sky. Oh autumn! Oh heart, beat on a little longer!
I would live a quiet life. I just hoped it would not end so soon.