Summer sings its long song, and all the notes are green.
But there’s a click, somewhere in the middle
of the month, as we reach the turning point, the apex,
a Ferris wheel, cars tipping and tilting over the top,
and we see September up ahead, school and schedules
returning. And there’s the first night you step outside
and hear the katydids arguing, six more weeks
to frost, and you know you can make it through to fall.
Dark now at eight, nights finally cooling off for sleep,
no more twisting in damp sheets, hearing mosquitoes’
thirsty whines. Lakes of chicory and Queen Anne’s lace
mirror the sky’s high cirrus. Evenings grow chilly,
time for old sweaters and sweatpants, lying in the hammock
squinting to read in the quick-coming dusk.
A few fireflies punctuate the night’s black text,
and the moonlight is so thick, you could swim in it
until you reach the other side.
Barbara Crooker
2 comments:
Have a great day...thanks for sharing this!
Oh this was depressing to read while I'm still trying to wring out every bit of late summer. I hang on to it as long as I can and don't even think about autumn...until it gets here! I do have to remember that Perhaps your summer is already cooling off and headed quicker in that direction! The visions of Queen Anne's lace and Chickory fields is quite beautiful though! :)
Post a Comment