When I see august in my memory,
It’s a simmering orange horizon.
I feel a breeze that brings no relief
And mourn the fleeting summers of my youth.
The heat; it’s choking me.
And anxiety over lost time dawns on all of us.
When I think about the summers of my life,
Will it feel like the end of an august day?
By Audrey Garcia
Audrey Garcia is 4th year undergraduate double majoring in Comparative Literature and Philosophy. Audrey aspires to be an educator and is passionate about research in the Humanities. Her participation in UCI's SURP and UROP programs have inspired many of her endeavors. Audrey is dedicated to UCI's Global Connect Internship and her Learning Assistantship in the French Department.