Here’s a lovely poem that seems to catch just the feeling of summer as it passes:
Indian Summer
From gold to gray
Our mild sweet day
Of Indian summer fades too soon;
But tenderly
Above the sea
Hangs, white and calm, the hunter’s
moon.
In its pale fire
The village spire
Show’s like the zodiac’s spectral lance;
The painted walls
Whereon it falls,
Transfigured stand in marble trance!
John Greenleaf Whittier